What Could Have Been
by ladyanaconda
Summary: Companion story to 'Tears of Despair and Joy'. Another side of it, actually, how things would have been if La Muerte had survived childbirth. One-Shots depicting Xibalba and La Muerte with their little Marigold. Non-cannon.
1. Chapter 1

What Could Have Been

**To all readers; Due to everyone's suggestions and reviews telling me they'd like to see La Muerte helping Xibalba raise Marigold, and so I'd decided to make a quick another one-shots story. However, this is only a 'what could habe been' type of story and is not to be considered cannon with Tears of Despair and Joy. **

**Well, enjoy! :)**

* * *

><p>Xibalba winced as his wife nearly crushed his hand when another contraction came. While gentle, loving and tender, La Muerte had the hidden strength of a thousand raging bulls when angry. This time, however, it was not anger that brought it out. It was their baby, their first and probably only child, who was ready to come into the world after nine months in her mother's womb.<p>

"I'm here, _mi amor_, I'm right here with you…"Xibalba whispered softly to his wife, wincing when she nearly crushed his hand once more. "Keep breathing…"

La Muerte was covered in sugary sweat, tears of pain forming in the corners of her eyes, her grip on her husband's hand unwillingly squeezed every time a contraction came. "Balby… Please…" she managed to speak between pants. "Stay with me…"

"Leave it all to me!" the Candlemaker popped into the room, cheerful as ever.

La Muerte was far in too much pain to even care, but Xibalba wasn't.

"_Pero que demo_-?! How did you know her water broke?! Do you even know what you're doing?!" he snapped.

"Uh…" The Candlemaker thought for a moment, trying to find the words to answer both questions. "…Well, you two appeared in the Book of Life like this a few seconds ago, and… Well, I'm not happy to say I've more or less seen how mortals bring babies to the world."

"I'm not going to kill him, I'm not going to kill him. I'M SO GOING TO KILL HIM!" Xibalba mentally grit his teeth, glaring daggers at the Candlemaker as the latter approached the bed.

"Okay, you're supposed to breath slooowly, when you push, don't stop breathing, and you should only push when the stimulation is strong." When La Muerte let out another scream of pain at another contraction, the Candlemaker clapped his hands. "Yeah, just like that!

La Muerte screamed in pain yet again. Xibalba used his free hand to stroke his wife's head in comfort. "Hold on, _mi amor_!"

"Yeah, I'll be rooting up for you!" the Candlemaker made a foam finger appear on his hand.

Before Xibalba could attack the Candlemaker, the doors of La Muerte's chambers opened and Carmen ran in, followed by the Adelita twins, and other female Remembered carrying towels and clean sheets.

"Now what?!" Xibalba cried out in frustration as he glanced at the Remembered.

"This is not something that concerns you men!" Carmen snapped. "You're just getting her nervous! Go out and leave this to us!"

"Come on, we're only helping!" the Candlemaker replied.

That's when La Muerte had enough. "Balby… Candlemaker…" she spoke as softly as she could.

Both men turned around to see her. "Yes?"

Then she yelled at the top of her lungs. "GET OUT!"

Xibalba and the Candlemaker had embraced each other in fright. "O-ok…" Both blurted out simultaneously and sped out of the chambers before she had another outburst.

* * *

><p><strong>2 hours later<strong>

* * *

><p>"Hey, Balby, how are you?"<p>

Xibalba stiffened when the Candlemaker used the childhood nickname he only let his wife use on him, but he was far too nervous and worried to care right now. They were kicked out of the room, and all they could hear were La Muerte's screams.

"How do you think?!" the dark god snapped with sharp teeth. "My own wife kicked me out and I don't know what's going on in there!"

"Calm down, it's not that bad!"

"How can I stay calm?! La Muerte is giving birth!"

The screams made him jump, and then the whimpers, caused him to become still and pale. Wherever any of the Remembered came out of the room to go and fetch more clean sheets or water, the twins would close the doors before he could get a peek inside, much to his frustration.

Can I… Go in?

Is La Muerte alright?

Are they alright?

Boy or girl?

Can I go in?

What color is the baby's eyes? The hair?

Are there any complications?

Can I go in?

What's going on in there?

Why won't you let me in?

CAN I PLEASE GO IN?!

Those questions were tearing Xibalba apart ever since Carmen and La Muerte kicked them out. After what seemed an eternity of pacing in front of the doors, Xibalba froze when he heard a baby cry echoing from within the room. Before he could dash in, however, someone opened the door and walked out. It was Carmen. She looked up at the dark god with a smile.

"Congratulations. You have a healthy, beautiful girl."

"A g-girl?" Xibalba was trembling, but not out of dread. Before he was even told he could, he flew into the room. The bed was a mess, and the Remembered were cleaning up, but his eyes were set on his wife. Even with her hair a mess, her face sweaty and her eyes teary, she was still beautiful.

However, the center of his attention was the small pink bundle on her arms. He approached his wife warily, the least thing he wanted was to make her angry. But when she looked up at him, she was smiling.

"Balby…" she whispered with a warmth and tenderness he hadn't heard before (not this much, at least). "There's someone who wants to meet you."

Xibalba glided to the side of the bed and sat on his knees, leaning forward to take a look at his newborn child. Her skin was made of sugar, just like her mother, with a few golden swirls on her chubby cheeks. Her hair was an elegant raven black, also inherited from her mother. The little one was tightly wrapped in a pink blanket, suckling from her mother's chest, clearly enjoying her first meal.

Xibalba found himself smiling. He felt something wet in the corners of his eyes, but he didn't mind it. La Muerte giggled when she noticed what was going on.

"Balby, are you crying?" she asked between giggles. This was the first time she saw him like this.

"No, there's something in my eyes…" Xibalba simply said. Tears of joy streamed down his cheeks as he kissed his wife's forehead; he reached out to stroke the little one's cheek lovingly. "She's beautiful, just like you." The baby stopped nursing and snuggled into her mother's arms. "I'm glad she looks more like you, _mi amor_."

"She's got trains from you too, you know." La Muerte replied softly.

"Up to now, I've only seen your hair and your fair skin on her, my dear."

Rolling her eyes, but smiling nonetheless, she removed a bit of the blanket and exposed a small, feathered wing of a charcoal color with golden tips.

"She has your wings silly." La Muerte laughed at her husband's stunned face.

"I can' wait to teach her how to fly" Xibalba chuckled, before starting to play with his daughter's fingers.

La Muerte noticed the look on Xibalba's eyes. "Would you like to hold her, Balby?"

"M-me?" he gulped. "I don't know…"

She smiled. "Here."

"W-Wait!"

The baby was in his arms before he knew it. It was not that he didn't want to, he was just afraid to drop her or something. La Muerte pushed his arms up.

"There, hold her close to you, that way she feels safe."

She let out a big sneeze, before opening her eyes slightly to see who was holding her. There was not a sign of fright on her face as her vision cleared momentarily and she glimpsed at her father for the first time. Xibalba just couldn't get his skull pupils of his baby's eyes –which turned out to be red pupils with green sclera, the same color as his- as he stared talking to her. "_Hola, bebita. Soy papi. Me recuerdas_?" The baby looked up at her father; she knew that voice. She had vague memories of it, when she was back inside her mother's body. The baby gave her father a small, toothless smile and reached out her arms to touch his cheeks.

"You do remember me, don't you, _mijita_?" Xibalba smiled tenderly at her as he planted a kiss on her forehead. Then he returned her to her mother. "La Muerte, look, she has my eyes."

La Muerte managed to catch a glimpse of the baby's eyes before she buried her face into her chest. "Told ya." She smirked teasingly at her husband.

Xibalba didn't mind. He got on top of the bed and wrapped his arms around his wife's body, pulling both her and his newborn baby close to him, before embracing them with his wings. La Muerte snuggled into Xibalba's embrace and rested her head against his chest; the both of them were looking down at their child lovingly as she shifted in her covers, closing and opening her little mouth.

Xibalba kissed La Muerte's cheek and ran his hand through her hair. "Thanks for giving me this gift, mi amor." He whispered into her ear.

"You're welcome, _mi vida_." La Muerte replied gently.

Their newborn, still nameless daughter was looking up at her parents with wide and curious eyes.

"Hola, pequeña." La Muerte smiled down at her little one. "I'm your _mami_, and this is your _papi_."

The baby reached out her hand and held unto her father's beard, curiously trying to figure out what it was made of. Xibalba smiled tenderly as he stroked his daughter's cheek with his gloved hand.

"She likes you, Balby." La Muerte giggled, stroking her husband's cheek. Xibalba blushed, and planted a kiss on his wife's forehead before both looked down at their child once more. The baby left her father's beard alone and now targeted one of her mother's many locks of black hair, gurgling and cooing.

"How should we name her, mi amor?" Xibalba inquired, snuggling his wife deeply into his embrace.

"How about…" La Muerte rested her head against Xibalba's chest and stroked her baby's head gently. "Marigold?"

"Marigold…" Xibalba repeated. Like the flower. "It's perfect." He looked down at the baby lovingly. "Our little Marigold…"

The newly-named Marigold yawned and snuggled deeply into her mother's embrace, calmed by her heartbeat. La Muerte suddenly felt her eyelids heavy when watching her child sleep; she was exhausted over childbirth and labor pains, she wanted to take a little nap.

"You should take a little nap, _mi amor_." Xibalba told her gently, accommodating her pillows to make her more comfortable.

"But Balby, what about Marigold-?" La Muerte was interrupted when he placed a finger over her lips.

"You need to rest, _mi corazón_. Don't worry about Marigold, I'll look after her."

Despite her protests, La Muerte handed over her precious baby to her husband, and lay back on her pillows. As soon as she felt the softness of the cushions on her back, La Muerte fell asleep with a smile of joy and satisfaction. Xibalba returned the smile as he pulled her sheet over her with one hand, while holding Marigold in the other carefully; the dark god then bent down and kissed his wife's cheek softly. "_Que duermas bien, mi corazón._"

When he was certain she was asleep, he cradled Marigold in his arms and looked down at her wriggling little body as he went and sat down on La Muerte's rocking chair (she bought it for when the baby was born). Suddenly, Marigold started to sob and her little face distorted into a frown.

"Sh-sh-sh-sh." Xibalba cooed, carefully bouncing Marigold in his hands. Just then, he noticed she was very small; in fact, so much he swore he could hold her whole body in one hand. "_Ya, ya, ya, princesa_. _Papi_'s here, _papi_'s got you." Thankfully, Marigold calmed down at the sound of his voice, and snuggled into his warm, protective arms. Xibalba sighed in relief as he leaned against the back of the rocking chair and swayed it with his wings.

"Well, I guess it's just you and me for a while, _mi florecita_."


	2. Chapter 2

Innocence

When Marigold was born, Xibalba's 'pets' disliked her.

Garra, Colmillo, Medianoche, even Ponzoña wasn't very fond of their princess, but for very different reasons. While Xibalba and La Muerte mostly had their daughter in the Land of the Remembered, there were times when La Muerte would bring down Marigold to see her father to spend the night there. For those days, Xibalba had made a cradle for his baby, out of oaken wood, with a mattress filled with his own feathers, with a few on top of it to make it a bit more comfortable; wooden bars were stuck to the sides of the cradle to keep Marigold from falling out. While Marigold's crib in the Land of the Remembered was a traditional bassinet of pastel tones of pink, yellow and a touch of red filled with white blankets and pillows, this crib was more like a traditional cradle on a rocker, considering the Land of the Forgotten didn't like colorful nor flamboyant things.

Why did they dislike her? For each of the animals, it was a very different reason.

Garra and Colmillo disliked her because Xibalba no longer displayed them as much attention as before; before he would sometimes let them sleep with him on bed (when La Muerte was not down there, of course), but now he didn't even go into his chambers, thinking their fur might provoke his daughter an allergy attack. Now, all his affection to the hounds was displayed simply by scratching behind the ears.

Medianoche disliked her because his master no longer had time to go on a ride with him. All day, Medianoche was confined to his stable, often neighing and stomping his hooves to call for attention, but Xibalba would only tell her to be quiet or he would wake Marigold up. The horse would retort by stomping his hooves and neighing even louder, but this only made the dark god shake his head in disappointment and leave to check on his baby.

But Ponzoña disliked her the most. Before she came, everything was perfect. He had been the center of Xibalba's affection (after La Muerte, at least), and would often curl up in his lap or slid up his arm to receive his affection, a stroke on one of his heads or scratching under the chin. However, now it seemed Marigold had replaced him; Xibalba held her in his arms most of the time she was there, giving her the bottle or changing her diaper. And when she was taking a nap, he would sit next to her cradle and watch her sleep fondly. Wherever Ponzoña tried to take advantage of these moments to rekindle his bond with his master, Xibalba ushered him away.

Besides, what did that smelly, small, motionless thing have that made their master and his mistress fawn over it so much? All day it nothing more than sleep or cry, yet when she did wail Xibalba and La Muerte would immediately rush to her side and check on her. They hated it.

On this particular day, Xibalba was unfortunately immersed in his paperwork, while La Muerte had to go tend to some issues back in her own realm, not before they lulled Marigold to sleep and left her carefully swaddled in her cradle to take her nap. As always, Xibalba forbad Garra and Colmillo from disturbing his beloved daughter. However, as soon as they were sure he was in his study, the hounds silently scratched at the door; Ponzoña slid down his hat stand and towards the door, removing the lock to allow the hounds to come in.

Under no circumstances would they accept living under the same roof with that… thing. The best solution for this? Get rid of it. They would take it outside, and look for some place to leave it for anyone to find it and keep it if they wanted to. Besides, they hadn't really gotten to get a glimpse at the creature. The cradle was a few steps away from Xibalba's bed, with no sound coming from within it. Ponzoña slid up the frame of the cradle while Garra and Colmillo looked through the wooden bars with raised ears, their eyes on the baby.

Marigold was asleep, clutching a purple plush snake with black stripes that was bigger than her. Seeing her made them angry. However, only Garra uttered a growling sound from within his throat, before one of Ponzoña's heads hissed at him. If he startled the infant, it would cry; if it cried, it would call their master's attention, and they would be in deep trouble.

Suddenly, Marigold started to stir, and opened her eyes. She felt four pairs of eyes on her, but she soon knew none of them belonged to her parents. Her glanced changed between Garra, Colmillo and Ponzoña's heads, wondering what kind of creatures they were, and if they were friendly. She cooed and gurgled, reaching out for Ponzoña's heads; when he jerked away, she changed her attention to Colmillo and managed to grab on his nose. The wolf-like black hound whined in pain and jerked away its snout for her grasp. And she _giggled_ at it. Colmillo growled at her trying to sound as menacing as he could, but she only giggled even more.

Garra and Colmillo glanced at each other and at Ponzoña's heads. Why didn't she fear them? Was she that dumb? They proceeded to sniff her, searching for any kind of reason as to why. Marigold giggled when she felt their hot breath tickling on her skin.

The more they stared at Marigold, the more they realized they were actually fascinated with the little one. They noticed she had their master's eyes; red, circular pupils in a pool of green sclera, but her eyes glimmered with a great innocence, curiosity and desire to learn new thing, rather than coldness and cruelty. Ponzoña noticed two feathery black stubs coming out from the blanket she was swaddled in, just on her back. They recognized them instantly as wings. However, the most notable features this little one had was that it was like a younger, smaller and more fragile version of their master's mistress, in every single way.

Now Marigold was holding out her plush in the air, as if she wanted to show it to them; maybe she was saying that she wanted to be friends with them. Soon, the animals realized they were starting to like the pup, hatchling or whatever it was called. Colmillo couldn't help it, and he stretched out his neck to sniff at the plush snake; however, the material it was made off provoked him an allergy reaction that made him sneeze loudly.

Marigold yelped in fright and started to cry. The animals panicked; if Xibalba found them like this, he would think they made her cry on purpose and he would be mad at them. Quickly, Ponzoña jumped off the cradle and slithered towards the drawers he had seen Xibalba keep the baby's pacifiers. Meanwhile, Colmillo started rocking the cradle at the base to try and sooth the infant, while Garra howled a random tune he thought off.

Xibalba grew alarmed as soon as he heard his baby crying, dropping his long black quill on top of his desk in the process; 'upstairs', La Muerte immediately felt her baby was in distress, and in a blur of marigold petals, she transported to the doors of Xibalba's chambers just as the dark god landed in front of them two, growing even more alarmed when they realized the doors were open.

However, when they opened the doors to pulverize whoever had dared lay a hand on their child, they were rather surprised by what they found.

"Guys?" Xibalba thought he had fallen asleep on his desk and was having a weird dream.

Colmillo was rocking the cradle, Garra was 'singing' to Marigold and Ponzoña had slithered up the crib, holding a pacifier in one of his mouths; Marigold's crying ceased as Ponzoña lowered the pacifier to her lips, and she immediately latched on it.

"Well, Balby, looks like we won't worry about finding a babysitter the next time we go out." La Muerte giggled as she approached the cradle –Garra and Colmillo moved out of the way- and picked her little one up. Marigold squirmed in alarm and her eyes started looking for the hounds' and the purple snake's shapes.

Xibalba glanced at his hounds, and found they had cowered away from the cradle, giving him fearful looks, thinking he would be angry. However, the dark god grinned and patted their heads softly. "Good boys." Having received affection from him after days of watching form afar, Garra and Colmillo immediately lunged at their master and knocked him over to the ground, their tongues coming into contact with his face like when they were pups and he was just a boy. However, Xibalba wasn't finding the situation any funny.

"Garra! Colmillo! _Sentados_!" The dark god protested, trying in vain to push his hounds off him.

La Muerte giggled at the scene and was soon joined by Ponzoña and Marigold (Marigold didn't know what her mother was laughing at, she just imitated her). Finally, Garra and Colmillo stepped off their master and allowed him to go back to his feet; Xibalba frowned and wiped their remaining saliva off his face, then looked down at his cloak and glared at his hounds. "You know it doesn't wash off!"

"Don't be mad, Balby, they're just happy you actually paid attention to them." La Muerte smiled, scratching behind Garra's ear with one hand, making the hound pant happily and move his leg.

"I guess you're right." Xibalba sighed. He hadn't spent too much time with his pets, now that he thought of it, with Marigold's birth and all that. Xibalba approached Ponzoña, still on the cradle, and extended his arm out to him. "Come here, boy."

Immediately, the two-headed snake slid up Xibalba's arm and wrapped around the crook on his arms, rubbing both heads against his cheek. Xibalba responded by scratching under its chins with his long, claw-like fingers.

Suddenly, Marigold sobbed and wriggled in her mother's arms, holding out her hands for Ponzoña.

"Oh, _mi bebé_." La Muerte snuggled her daughter into her embrace. "You grew attached to Ponzy, didn't you?"

Xibalba thought for a moment, before walking closer to his wife, taking Marigold from her gently.

"What are you going to do, Xibalba?" La Muerte inquired curiously.

"There's someone else she is yet to meet."

* * *

><p>Medianoche had given up his ranting of hoof stamping and neighing, finally accepting that Xibalba would no longer fall for it. Instead, he lay down unto his straw bed, relaxing and taking a nap, remembering when he and his master met.<p>

_He was in his 'place' again. _

_His father would not find him here, that's what he hoped. He didn't want to receive another beating. In the darkness of his cave, ten year old Xibalba hugged his knees and buried his face into his them, wrapping himself in his wings, wincing everytime the freshly-made wounds made by a whipping stung. What did he have to do to earn his father's affection? He had no friends either, none of the other young gods liked him, they thought he was scary. When he thought of this things, he sobbed louder and his eyes stung with more tears. _

_A sound caught his attention, then the feeling of hot breath exhaling in his neck. Xibalba jerked back in fear that his father found him, but was surprised to find instead a young horse –probably a yearling- stepping back in surprise and startled eyes red eyes. Its coat was of the darkest black, its body was elegant and well-proportioned for its age and its mane and tail were gracefully curved at the tip. How had it gotten here? Animals always went up to the Land of the Remembered. Xibalba moved away again in fear when the yearling approached him once more. _

_"__Leave me alone!" he snapped, still sobbing, trying to wrap himself in his wings. _

_The yearling stared at his wings curiously, and stretched out his neck to sniff them. Then, he started to nib a few of them, making the young god snap his wing back in annoyance. "Go away!" Xibalba snapped, burying his face into his knees and turning around so that the horse wouldn't bother him any further. _

_The yearling realized the boy in front of him was sad. He started to think of way to cheer him up. Xibalba felt curiosity when the foal started to neigh loudly and stomp his hooves; when he turned around to tell the horse to go bother someone else, he was surprised to find the foal dancing (or at least trying to), stomping its small hooves rhythmically and lifting them off the ground. Xibalba couldn't help but laugh a bit at it._

_"__You're funny, stupid horse." _

_The foal neighed and approached Xibalba once more, then started licking his tears dry. The young god giggled even more than before, and gave the little beast some pats in the neck. _

_"__You're just lonely, aren't you, boy?" _

_The foal approached Xibalba and rested next to him, laying its head on his lap, flicking its ears in relaxation. _

_"__You lost your mama? I lost mine too. We can be friends if you'd like." _

_The foal let out a small snort. _

_"__How about I name you? I can't refer to your as horse all the time." Xibalba examined the foal for a second, before running a hand across its coat as dark as midnight… as dark as midnight. _

_"__How about Medianoche?"_

"Medianoche."

The horse was brought back from the unofficial Land of Memories when he heard his master's voice; happy after days of not seeing him, the stallion immediately stood up and approached the door of his box… but was very much disappointed when he saw a familiar, wriggling bundle in his master's arms. Master's mistress was holding unto his arm with a worried expression, her eyes set on the bundle. Garra and Colmillo sat a few steps away, Ponzoña wrapped around Colmillo's beck the three were staring at the horse anxiously.

"Hello there, _chico_." Xibalba spoke softly, gently bouncing Marigold in his arms to keep her calm.

Medianoche snorted and took a few steps back with bent back ears..

"I know I haven't been here to see you for the part days, but I'm here. I wanted to introduce you to Marigold."

Medianoche stared at the wriggling bundle of blankets in his rider's arms.

"Xibalba, are you sure this is a good idea…?" La Muerte whispered, tightly holding unto her husband's arm when Medianoche approached once more. "What if he gets scared?"

"Come on, _mi amor_, how could Marigold scare him?" Xibalba chuckled, reassuringly wrapping a wing around his wife, before centering his attention back on his horse and holding out his baby a bit. "Look, boy. This is my baby, Marigold"

Marigold was back to her nap, warmly swaddled up in blankets, suckling on her pacifier innocently, wriggling in her father's arms every now and then. Medianoche carefully reached out his neck and sniffed the child curiously, his ears pointing forward. Marigold giggled in her sleep at the ticklish sensation and tried to hide her face into her father's chest.

Suddenly, Medianoche didn't dislike the little one so much now. With a snort and a silent neigh, he grabbed unto her blanket and nibbled on it, in hopes of waking her up. Marigold opened her eyes slightly and started looking around for the thing that had interrupted her nap, and was startled when she realized there was a ridiculously large head above her, grabbing at her blanket. However, rather than being frightened by it, she was curious; immediately, she cooed and reached out for Medianoche's nose.

La Muerte giggled at the scene. "Aren't they a cutie?" However, her motherly side soon made her take her baby back from her father. "But we can't let her near them so much, Balby. Remember she's just a baby, her defenses are not that developed fully yet." But as soon as she stepped away from the horse, Marigold started to cry and reached out for him. "Aww, don't worry, _mi Chiquita_." La Muerte held her baby against her chest and kissed her head, soothing her a bit. "In a few months you'll be able to play with papi's _pets_."

"I'd rather use the term 'family', my dear." Xibalba spoke as he approached her, glancing at his hounds, snake and horse with a smile. "They're part of the family too."

The animals were touched by those words. As they saw La Muerte and Xibalba go back into the castle to lull their daughter back to her nap, they realized that they didn't need, nor want, to rid themselves of that brat; even that word, _brat_, had changed from insult to a cute nickname.

They just couldn't wait to play with her again.


	3. Chapter 3

Stillbirth

_La Muerte clutched her swollen stomach, gritting her teeth and letting out a scream of pain. She felt blood and fluid soaking her gown, and dripping down her legs. As soon as the spirits heard their Queen was in distress, they rushed into her chambers to find her leaning unto her night table to keep her balance. _

_"__Mi señora, what is it?!" the eldest of the female Remembered asked in alarm, though she knew the answer. _

_"__My baby!" La Muerte cried out in pain, her nails digging into the wood table. _

_"__She's going into labor!" the elder woman yelled, before turning at the spirits. "help her unto bed, and bring cloths and water." She turned to see the youngest woman. "Send a letter to Lord Xibalba to inform him of what is happening!"_

_The spirits helped their Queen rest back on the bed; luckily, the elder woman had been an experienced midwife in life, so she knew what to do, and she'd do her best to help her Queen deliver a healthy baby. It would be a few hours until her cervix dilated, so it would be enough time till her Lady's husband arrived-_

_"__WHERE IS SHE?! IS SHE OKAY?!"_

_"__Whoa, calm down, man!" _

_"__HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN?! THE BABY'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE BORN YET!" _

_La Muerte was both surprised and relieved to hear her dear Xibalba's voice; but how he had known she had just entered labor, she'd have to ask him later. But judging by the Candlemaker's voice outside, she could only guess he'd told him as soon as this part of her Story appeared in the Book of Life… La Muerte gritted her teeth in pain when she felt another contraction. _

_"__Hang on, milady!" the elder woman cried out. _

_When she let out another scream, someone pounded on the door, but the nuns locked it to prevent any men from going in. _

_"__Xibalba, knock it off!" Now it was Ehécatl who spoke from the outside. _

_"__LET ME IN!" _

_The next who spoke was Macuilcuetzpalin. "You're going to put her nervous if you keep doing that!" Damn it, had the Candlemaker told all of Aztlan about her going into labor?!_

_There was a knock in the door, but this one was softer than the one before. "Please, let us in, we can be of help!" That voice was feminine, so naturally the nuns opened the door. Xochiquétzal, Toci and Akhushtal were allowed in, but the nuns quickly closed the door before Xibalba had a chance to fly in. _

_"__QUÉ?! HOW IS IT THAT THEY LET __**THEM**__ IN, BUT NOT ME, THAT I'M HER __**HUSBAND**__!" _

_"__Well, they're women, to begin with." Tezcatlipoca snapped from the outside. "It's improper for a man to be present at a childbirth!"_

_"__I DON'T CARE! I WANT TO SEE MY WIFE!"_

_"__How's she doing?" Akhushtal inquired. "How much time between contractions?" _

_The elder woman stepped aside to give way to the Goddess of childbirth; she was much more wise in this matter. "Three minutes." Just then, La Muerte screamed again in pain; Xochiquétzal took her hand. _

_"__Are you okay?" the Jaguar goddess asked in worry. _

_"__What do you think?!" La Muerte replied between pants and grit teeth. "It hurts!"_

_"__It's always hard the first time, but you're a strong woman, you'll go through this." Toci assured the younger Goddess. _

_"__LET ME IN!" _

_La Muerte groaned in frustration. "Let him in at once, would you?!" _

_"__Absolutely not, it isn't proper." Akhushtal replied. _

_"__He won't stop yelling if we just leave him out there, and it might put her nervous." Xochiquétzal stated. "It'll be best to let him in, as much as we dislike the idea." The jaguar goddess snickered evilly. "I might even get to see him faint." _

_"__But she's almost dilated-" _

_"__Just bring Balby in!" La Muerte screamed in pain, her forehead sweating, her hands gripping her blankets. _

_Xochiquétzal rushed to pull the doors open, and the sight nearly sent her into bursts of laughter. The Candlemaker, Tláloc, Tezcatlipoca and even Lord Quetzalcóatl were restraining Xibalba by the arms and wings; the dark god was letting out muffled protests due to the Candlemaker's hand covering his mouth. _

_"__She says he can come in…" After finishing that sentence, Xochiquétzal burst out in fits of laughter._

_The male Gods just stared at her. "He can?" Xibalba took advantage of the distractions to free himself from their grasp and fly into the room. He landed right next to La Muerte's bed and took her hand tightly. "Are you alright?" _

_"__Your yells can be heard all the way in here!" La Muerte snapped, glaring at him. _

_"__I wanted to know you were.-"_

_"__I'm fine, now stop being such a crybaby!" La Muerte screamed again, and crushed her husband's hand, making Xibalba yelp in pain, but he contained it. "How much longer?!" _

_Akhushtal looked down, then up again. "I see something! Push!" _

_La Muerte did as told, gritting her teeth, nearly fracturing Xibalba's hand. The pain flared up and dulled. _

_Toci was placing wet cloths on her forehead to wipe her sweet, while Xochiquétzal helped Akhushtal in anything she could. "The head's crowning!" _

_La Muerte pushed with all her might, the pain was unbearable and she felt like she was ripping apart. Xibalba yelled in pain, but he never left his wife's side. He stroked her head gently and cooed at her, telling her everything would be alright. _

_The male Gods peered through the open door that Xochiquétzal forgot to close, and felt on the verge of fainting. La Muerte's head was spinning, and her vision turned blurry; however, she wouldn't give up so easily. _

_"__Just one more push!" Akhushtal said._

_With one final burst of strength add pain, La Muerte pushed. _

_Suddenly, she felt something was going on. She was aware of Toci, Akhushtal and Xochiquétzal chattering, the male Gods giving the Candlemaker a bucket so he could vomit, and Xibalba brushing her hair out of her face, kissing her. _

_However, she took notice of something. She didn't hear her child crying. _

_Akhushtal grew alarmed when the baby made no sound or movement after coming out; it was still, as if he were sleeping. She patted the child's back firmly to try to make him cry, and take his first breath, but nothing happened. She cut the umbilical cord and held the baby face down to give it a good spank, but the little one remained still. _

_"__What's wrong with him?" Xochiquétzal inquired, her tone alarmed and fearful; but she knew the answer._

_"__Wrong?" Xibalba immediately turned to the trio of Goddesses when he heard that word coming from her. "What do you mean?" _

_La Muerte sat up from bed and stared up at her baby boy. His skin was made out of tar like his father, but he lacked wings. He had a small tuft of white hair on his head, and golden and green swirls on his legs and body. However, she realized he hadn't given a single wail, nor moved a muscle. "Is my baby okay…?" _

_Akhushtal was now fearing the worst. She placed her fingers on the baby's neck to see if his heart was beating. She closed her eyes shut._

_There was no pulse. _

_"__Well?!" Xibalba urged, his voice growing desperate. "What's wrong?!" _

_Akhushtal's voice was so low they almost didn't hear her. "I'm so sorry…." _

_Xochiquétzal gasped and took her paw to her mouth, her eyes tearing up. _

_Toci closed her eyes and shook her head sadly at the news. _

_The male gods looked down._

_"__No…" Xibalba couldn't believe it what he was hearing._

_"__What's wrong?!" La Muerte raised her voice, sitting up despite her exhaustion and soreness. _

_"__He didn't make it." Akhushtal replied. Before she could give any more explanations, Xibalba snatched the baby out of her arms and held him close, looking down at him. _

_"__**Bebé**__, please wake up!" he spoke with a pleading voice, his eyes tearing up as he tried in vain to shake his son awake. "Wake up!" _

_La Muerte felt her whole world stopped the moment she heard those four words coming out from Akhushtal's lips. She watched in shock and denial as Xibalba continued to try and awake their baby, with no results. The little one remained still and silent. The goddess felt her little heart break in two upon seeing her child's limp body cradled in her husband's arms. _

_Realizing (and accepting) that his son was dead, Xibalba closed his eyes shut and sobbed as tears rolled down his cheeks, pressing his face against his baby's body, his wings dropping at his sides. Finally, La Muerte could take it no longer, and she burst out in tears. Xibalba immediately approached wife, and sat down next to her, wrapping a comforting wing around her; La Muerte reacted by wrapping her arms around his neck, and taking a closer look at their stillborn child. With a trembling hand, she stroked his chubby cheek, and her heart broke even more upon feeling the coldness of his skin. _

_Akhushtal, Toci, and the rest of the gods left the couple alone; the air grew sad and cold as they mourned for their dead child. _

_"__T-They could try again…" Xochiquétzal sobbed in low voice as Tláloc closed the doors shut._

_Akhushtal shook her head gravely. "What just happened marked them emotionally. I don't think they'll ever be able to conceive again."_

* * *

><p>La Muerte woke up from her nightmarish memory with a fast-beating heart, cold sweat and tears running down her cheeks. Her motherly instinct flaring up, she was out of bed and was on her way to her baby's room before Xibalba could even ask her what was wrong. She slammed the doors open and ran towards her child's bassinet and looked inside; Marigold was startled awake by the suddenly loud sound, but her mother's face soon soothed her down; Marigold cooed and held out her arms for her innocently.<p>

"_Mi niña_…" La Muerte sobbed as she took her daughter in her arms, and held her as close as possible, kissing her head and burying her head into her wriggling little body. "_Mi bebita_… _mi Chiquita_."

Marigold didn't understand why her mommy was crying, and she just stared at her in confusion. She reached out her little hands to wipe her mother's tears curiously.

"_Mi amor_?"

Xibalba nearly had a heart attack when La Muerte woke up out of sudden and burst out of the room before he could react, but he nevertheless went after her. When he landed into the baby's nursery and saw his wife weeping while holding their daughter in his arms, he felt his heart break. He had never liked to see his beloved wife suffering.

La Muerte didn't reply, she just kept weeping into her baby, clutching her tightly and not wanting to let her go. She didn't react as Xibalba approached her and gently took her by the shoulders. "What's wrong, _mi corazón_?" he asked in worry.

After what seemed like an eternity, La Muerte replied with a shaky voice. "I had a nightmare…"

"What happened?"

"Our first baby… he… he…" She couldn't continue the sentence as she turned around and buried her face into her husband's chest, still holding Marigold in her arms tightly.

Xibalba knew instantly what she was talking about, and he pulled her closer into an embrace, wrapping her in her wings. "Shhhh. It's okay, _mi amor_. I'm here." However, he just felt the wound in his heart from that painful and heart-wrenching event opening up.

"What if something had happened to Marigold too?"

"No, don't say that. Our little Marigold is fine, that's all that matters now."

"Balby… Why did our baby have to pass away without having even taken his first breath?"

"I guess we'll never know…" Xibalba stroked La Muerte's hair gingerly. "Please don't cry, _mi corazón_. It gives me pain to see you cry."

They could still remember the pain they went through. They buried their little one in a beautiful garden, in Aztlan, where Quetzalcóatl allowed them to do so. It was the first, and only time La Muerte wore black clothing. They'd never forget their dead baby's body as Lord Quetzalcóatl performed the corresponding funerary rites, and then proceeded to cremate him, sending his spirit to Chichihualcuauhco, the Land of the Dead Infants. The following years were a torture; they were tormented by the memory of their stillborn son, and unable to conceive another baby, no matter what they tried. That, and adding their estrangement a few centuries later… By the time they reconciled they had more or less gotten over the tragedy; and then a two years after their last wager, they were surprised to learn that they expected yet another baby.

They still thanked the heavens that their baby, their little Marigold, had been born healthy and alive.

Speaking of which, Marigold sobbed in her mother's embrace when she felt uncomfortably squeezed and soon started to cry. La Muerte gently pulled back from her husband's embrace and looked down at her daughter.

"Shhh, _ya, ya, mi Chiquita_." The Goddess kissed her daughter's forehead. "_Mami's_ got you now."

"Me too, _mi florecita_." Xibalba whispered softly, blinking his forming tears away and wiping his daughter's with his finger carefully. "We are both here for you."

Marigold looked up at her parents with glossy eyes, and wiggled in her mother's embrace, her wings trying to free themselves from their swaddling up. She settled down, gently grabbing Xibalba's finger and letting out a coo before going back to her nap.

Despite the contradictory tears, La Muerte beamed down at her beautiful baby, and planted a kiss on her forehead, watching as she fell asleep. "I don't want to leave her alone, Balby…" she whispered, stroking Marigold's cheek gingerly.

"We don't have to, my love. She can spend the night with us, if you'd like." Xibalba replied gently, looking down at his daughter with tender eyes.

The couple soon returned to their chambers, with La Muerte still holding their precious baby in her arms, cooing and bouncing her wherever she stirred in her sleep.

When they were back in bed, Xibalba pulled his wife and child closer with a wing and arm; La Muerte rested her head against his chest, and snuggled into his embrace, accommodating Marigold in her arms one more time; both deities were looking adoringly at the fruit of their love, before Xibalba kissed his wife's cheek. "_Buenas noches_, _mi amor_."

La Muerte returned the kiss gently. "_Buenas noches_, Balby."

The dark god bent down to plant a kiss on Marigold's forehead, and then he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "_Dulces sueños, mi pequeñita_." He smiled down at her.

Marigold cooed and shifted in her covers before settling down again.

They slept close to one another that night.


	4. Chapter 4

Uncle Zipacna

Five days after Marigold was born, the Land of the Remembered held a great _fiesta_ to celebrate her birth. All the spirits were out in the streets, dancing at the pace of the mariachi music, the colorful _papel picado_ was raining from the sky like rain, and all the food from the marketplace was for free to celebrate such an occasion. But La Muerte's castle was the center of the celebration, and all of the Remembered went to the throne room to meet the newborn child. The castle was decorated in colors of pastel pink, and confetti and _papel picado_ also decorated the throne room, with all the dancing or grabbing food from the tables, but the majority was fawning over their beloved Queen's child.

Marigold apparently didn't like to be the center of attention, for she was sobbing her discomfort about being surrounded by strangers and crowds of fawning women. She tried to snuggle even deeply into her mother's embrace; La Muerte just giggled as she shook the baby rattle Xibalba had made for their baby before she was born; naturally, this caught Marigold's attention as she tried to catch the rattle from her mother's grasp, cooing adorably and making the women around her fawn even more.

"Okay, you lot, leave my daughter alone." Xibalba approached his wife's chair and ushered the crowd away, before bowing down and tickling Marigold's nose, making her giggle. "Oh, _sí_, those annoying people won't leave you alone."

La Muerte rolled her eyes at her husband. "Really, Xibalba. They just want to meet our baby, is it that bad?"

"Just look at Marigold! She doesn't like it."

Despite Xibalba's protests, La Muerte allowed the crowd of elderly and young women to approach her child once more.

"Awww, she's a cutie!"

"Look, she's opening her eyes!"

"You bore a beautiful child, _señora mía_."

"coochie-coochie!"

La Muerte smiled at the compliments, but Marigold was still bothered by the crowd. Finally, Xibalba had enough of those insufferable women bothering his baby. "_Mi amor_, would you mind if I took our _pequeña_ for a while?"

La Muerte knew he actually wanted to get her away from the crowd, but nevertheless she decided to let him have Marigold for a while. He had spent all morning trying to do so. "Be careful, don't forget I fed her a while ago."

"Aww, come with _papi_, _mi florecita_." Xibalba paid her no heed for the moment, and simply took his daughter from his wife's arms, cradling her in his own and making funny expressions. "Who's a good baby? Who's a good baby?" he laughed when Marigold giggled uncontrollably and tried to imitate his faces.

La Muerte giggled when she saw the scene, but the spirits felt rather… awkward at seeing the god of fear acting too jolly, maybe because they were used to his darker, cruel and unforgiving side that he showed to anyone but his wife (and recently his newborn child); no, with La Muerte and Marigold he was a completely different man. When he noticed the looks the Remembered were giving him, he spread out his wings and hissed at them with sharp teeth, making the spirits scramble away; however, this startled Marigold, and she started to cry. Xibalba panicked instantly, not only because of what just happened, but also because of the annoyed look La Muerte was giving him.

"No, no, no, papi didn't mean to scare you, _mi florecita_!" he cooed gently at Marigold, bouncing her in his arms. "Sh-sh-sh." It took him a few more minutes, but eventually he managed to calm Marigold down by sticking out his tongue at her. Marigold stared at her father curiously with wide, glossy eyes, and it wasn't long before she stuck out her tongue back at him.

Despite her earlier annoyance that her husband had startled her baby, La Muerte couldn't contain a giggle as she stood up from her seat and approached her two babies as they stuck out their tongues at each other. There was a little detail she had to mention Xibalba.

"Balby?"

"What is it, _mi amor_?" Xibalba replied, still laughing at Marigold sticking out her tongue at him, probably in revenge for startling her.

"I'm glad you agreed that I invite your brother."

"Me too, my-" Xibalba processed the sentence into his brain. When he did, his eyes snapped open in hock as he looked at his wife, "you WHAT?!"

"I invited your brother to come over so he could meet Marigold."

"What-?! But-?! Why didn't you ask me before?!"

La Muerte crossed her arms and frowned. "I _did_."

"What do you mean you did?"

"Don't you remember? Two days ago when we were putting Marigold to sleep I asked you if I could invite Zipacna to the party, but it seems you were too busy to pay me any attention."

"_Maldita sea_…!" Xibalba muttered under his breath as he started bouncing Marigold gently. "Isn't there a way to uninvited him before he comes?!"

"Xibalba! He's your brother!"

"What kind of brother abandons-!" he stopped himself in mid-sentence. Now was not the time to argue over something so… delicate to him, not around all the Remembered who were just enjoying themselves, most of them oblivious to their small argument. Before any of the two could say anything else, suddenly the atmosphere grew dark and cold, and without warning a flock of about thirty crows burst through the doors, startling every single spirit, fearing a demon of the darkest depths had come to take them away. The flock of crows flew in circles around a now-empty part of the dining hall, until they merged together into one single form with a blur of dark feathers.

Xibalba wanted to look away, but La Muerte must have read his mind, because she grabbed his chin a bit harshly and keep his head from turning away.

Moderate harlequin eyes with dark grayish opal pupils set on Xibalba. "Hi, little bro." the voice of the creature chirped happily.

The dark being that had just materialized was made out of crow feathers, they covered nearly all of his body. His wings, though, were naked like those of a bat. His head was that of a caiman, with a few fangs sticking out of his mouth, and feathery bat ears, with a crest of feathers twitching depending on his mood. His torso was like that of a human, but his legs were crow talons and his thick tail was covered in long, thick feathers. A long, dark brown cloak hung from his shoulders and reached all the way to the floor, with bracers of obsidian on his forearms and forelegs.

Xibalba remained emotionless. "Zipacna." He spoke in low voice with a twinge of bitterness.

"What? Don't I get a hug from my little brother?" Zipacna teleported in a blur of feathers to his brothers side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. La Muerte giggled, but Xibalba wasn't very much excited to see him at all. Zipacna then proceeded to greet his sister-in-law. "La Muerte! Long time no see, honey!" In another blur of feathers he was next to her, and lifted her hand to plant a kiss on the back of it. "You're still as pretty as the last time I saw you."

La Muerte smiled politely. "Thank you, Zipacna. I'm glad to see you after all these centuries, too." She noted Zipacna's eyes darted from her to his brother, hoping to see at least a small twinge of gladness to see him, but she saw the disappointment through his jolly mask that Xibalba remained as cold as always.

A coo of protest caught the three gods' attention. Marigold had started to squirm in her father's arms, trying to call their attention, angry at being ignored. Zipacna's eyes brightened.

"Is that my niece?" he chirped in delight, leaning closer to take a better look at his brother's daughter. Xibalba instinctively tightened his hold on his child, but he allowed Zipacna to take a look at Marigold. Marigold was looking up at her uncle curiously, wondering who he was and why her father became all-serious when he arrived. However, she started to giggle when the crow-caiman tickled her chin with a long claw. "Cochie-cochie-cooo!"

La Muerte giggled at the scene, but she was annoyed at Xibalba's mask of indifference. She decided to do something about it. "Well, Zipacna, I hope you'll excuse _us_."

Xibalba was relieved that she said those words, hoping she'd taking him away, but she simply took Marigold from his embrace and started walking away, not before giving them a glance, ignoring her husband's uncredulous stare. "I believe you two have a lot to catch up to."

As the ruled of the Land of the Remembered returned to the anxious crowd of spirits and allowed them to see her daughter, the two brothers were left alone. None of the two said anything for a while, instead their gazes were awkwardly elsewhere.

While Zipacna had been the eldest of Akrinok's sons, their father thought him an abomination because of his crow-like appearance, and instead opted to give his throne to his younger child. However, the thing the two brothers had in common was that both had been victims of their father's physical and emotional abuse. Zipacna would stand up for his little brother and would always get the worst beatings for doing so; the two of them were very close as children, until the day Zipacna could stand it no longer and ran away.

In other words, he left Xibalba behind.

Zipacna eventually turned eighteen, and he was granted a realm of his own, the Land of the Cursed, where the worst of scum of humanity went to, not accepted in the Land of the Forgotten. He never let the nature of his realm twist his jolly, even carefree personality. A few years later he heard Akrinok had been killed in a duel, and his little brother had been left alone. Still, he was so busy with his realm that, unfortunately for both, he could not visit him. Then Xibalba turned eighteen, and was crowned as the ruler of the Land of the Forgotten.

Zipacna couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Xibalba was King at that time, but he was still happy for him. He still had his vague memories of a smiling little boy with crow wings and body of tar and green. Now, before him, stood a strong, regal god with snow-white moustaches and beard, tall and handsome (to some) in a regal black cloak and armor, and as always, the leather gloves and the snake staff. When had _that_ happened? What kind of evolution had Xibalba gone through? Curiously, everyone often thought mistakenly that Xibalba was the older of the two brothers, since he was always the most serious and mature of the two.

Over the years after Xibalba's coronation, Zipacna tried to rekindle his relationship with his younger sibling, but Xibalba deeply resented him for abandoning him to suffer under their father's cruel hand, and mostly avoided interaction wit him. Sure, they'd have to see each other every time there was a meeting in Aztlan, but Xibalba's tone was always cold and distant. Zipacna wouldn't give up so easily, however. They noticed for years that the other Gods had been trying to get the two brothers to get along again, La Muerte being one of the main schemers.

The _fiesta_ continued and both brothers stood there, Zipacna raking his brain to think of something, anything to say and break the heavy silence that had settled between them.

"_Hola_."

"…_Hola_? _Hola_ me?" Zipacna pointed a finger to his chest, never in his life expecting Xibalba to be the one to speak first. His brother was still serious, but his gaze softened up a bit. "Oh! Um. "_Hola_!"

"…You look good." Xibalba said, fidgeting with his staff.

"Flattery will get you nowhere." Zipacna winked, his shoulders finally relaxing. "If you saw how many girls have fawned over me over the years."

Xibalba's chuckle was a godsend. When was the last time he'd head that? Not a boyish giggle, but the deep laugh of his amused brother.

"I sure hope you don't introduce them to me." Xibalba muttered. "We don't want another _Hija de Perra_."

The comment should've stung, but Zipacna found it funny. Xibalba was obviously testing the waters. He probably didn't know how to interact with him, what jokes to make. Zipacna wanted to let him know, gods, he wanted to cry out to the heavens that he could joke as crudely as he wanted, as long as he did not ignore Zipacna again. As long as they could keep this conversation going, Xibalba could say whatever he wanted for all Zipacna cared

Suddenly, Xibalba's eyes narrowed. "What the…?"

"What? What is it?" Zipacna panicked, scanning the room, trying to find the source of what had caught his brother's eye.

"The cake…" the Ruler of the Forgotten frowned.

"The cake?" Zipacna's eyes landed on the seven layer cake with the chocolate ganache frosting at the far end of the room and almost snorted.

The cake had a missing patch of frosting with the shape of a bird's talon, and a hastily placed _empanada_ was stuck to the side. It looked ridiculous.

"Did you do that… interesting decoration?" Xibalba's gaze turned to his brother.

"…No."

"Zipacna."

"…That's what you get for making a chocolate cake when you know it's my weakness."

Xibalba laughed. His brother might be ridiculous sometimes, but he had a good sense of humor. Zipacna was so relieved, he laughed along. A good, throaty laugh. When was the last time they'd shared one?"

"When I came in, one of my crows snatched the frosting." Zipacna explained between laughs. "And, uh, things went wrong."

"I can imagine…" Xibalba's eyes returned to his wife and daughter. By then, Marigold was crying her annoyance out, but soon soothed down when La Muerte shook the rattle he'd made for her above her little head, and their baby instantly wanted to grab it with a wide, toothless smile. He couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"She's a beautiful girl, you know." Zipacna stated. "Your daughter."

"Thanks… I suppose." Xibalba sighed, his mask of indifference melting own, as well as the ice in his heart. "I'm glad she looks more like her mother."

"Me too." Zipacna muttered under his breath with a sly grin, until his brother frowned at him. "What? No offense, little bro, but I think she's more cute than you."

Xibalba rolled his eyes, but he couldn't contain the small grin on his lips. He had to admit, maybe he _did_ miss his brother a bit. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to give it a try… at least once, and see if their friendship could be mended.

La Muerte temporally set shifted her attention from her giggling baby to the two brothers, who had started a more-or-less formal conversation that was turning more and more warm, at least that was the impression she got. Marigold caught sight of her father's wings and she let out squeals and coos as she reached out her arms for him. La Muerte giggled and lifted up her baby to hold her against her chest. "Looks like your papi and your uncle are making up. How about we go and see what they're talking about?"

Xibalba and Zipacna were so immersed in their conversation (they touched the topic of girls, but Zipacna was more open on the subject than Xibalba due to the latter's married status) they didn't notice La Muerte approaching.

"One of these days you should come with me to that bar, there are lots of pretty girls there." Zipacna chuckled.

"Yeah, well…" Xibalba shifted uncomfortably, supporting himself on his staff. "I'm not really into that anymore… I only have eyes for my _Muertita_…" he jumped at the familiar grunt coming from his wife. He and Zipacna turned their heads around to find La Muerte glancing at them with a frown, and little Marigold reaching out for her father. "I know, _mi amor_, you don't like to be called like that!"

La Muerte smirked teasingly at her husband and patted his cheek. Zipacna nearly burst out laughing when he saw how his little brother melted into her touch with a goofy smile. Marigold giggled and clapped her little hands, amused by the scene too.

"Well, honey, looks like you have him eating from your hand!" Zipacna chuckled heartily.

Xibalba blushed fiercely. "Shut up." His voice sounded more embarrassed than annoyed.

"Balby, Marigold has been pleading for you to hold her for a while now." La Muerte handed their child over to her husband. Immediately, Marigold's fingers clung unto her father's beard and fidgeted with it, giggling at the ticklish sensation of the snow white hairs.

"Hey, Xibalba…" Zipacna blurted out, fidgeting with his tail nervously.

"What is it?" the younger god inquired gently, without ooking away from his daughter's beaming grin as he played with her fingers.

"Can I…" the crow-like caiman gulped. "CanIholdher?"

Xibalba blinked in confusion and finally looked up at his brother. "What?"

"Can I hold her?"

La Muerte smiled at her brother-in-law. "Sure you can, Zipacna, you don't have to ask." She gently squeezed Xibalba's arm. The dark god looked down at his baby as she cooed and gurgled, kicking and flapping her wings a bit. Letting out a sigh, he approached his brother and held her out.

"Just be careful. She doesn't feel very comfortable with strangers."

Zipacna tensed up a bit as Xibalba handed Marigold over to him, showing him how to support her properly. Like Xibalba had said, Marigold was frightened when she felt she was no longer in either of her parents' embrace, and even more at her uncle's rather frightening appearance; she started to cry, and reached out for her mother and father. Zipacna panicked and bounced her, trying to calm her down; however, he was bouncing her too hard.

"Nonono-!"

"Zipacna, wait, she's just-!"

Neither La Muerte or Xibalba could do anything as Marigold vomited unto her uncle's chest. Zipacna quickly held her away from his chest and looked down in dismay at the milky liquid running down his torso. Marigold giggled and clapped her little hands. La Muerte and Xibalba just stood there, staring at the scene, before both started to laugh. Some of the Remembered around them were watching in amusement, and a few had even burst out in laughter.

"Hahaha, very funny, all of you." Zipacna rolled his eyes, before lifting Marigold up in his hands to look at her eyes. "I'll remember this, _sobrina_." He tried to sound intimidating, but in reality he was laughing his heart out internally. He couldn't contain a grin when Marigold gave him a beaming grin once more, and reached out her tiny hands to touch his snout.

Xibalba smiled as he glided closer to his older brother and took his daughter back from him; Marigold was glad to be back in her father's warm, protective arms, and hid her face into his chest.

"You know, Zipacna, you should come visit more often."

Zipacna snickered and patted his brother's back with a clawed hand. "I will, little bro."


	5. Chapter 5

The Duet

* * *

><p>He rolled over for the umpteenth time, but one fact was obvious, sleep would be a long time in coming, and his wife was to blame. He closed his eyes once more, praying for the silence from his loving wife to last, he stayed quiet, eyes shut, and waited in vain for the unofficially named Land of Sleep to claim him. Finally, just as he was once again on the brink of dreams… it came, sounding painfully loud every time the thunders roared. A sound that could drive even him up a wall, if heard constantly within the hour. He clenched his skeletal hands and rolled back over to his previous position before, and squinted in the darkness at the figure that lied next to him, his lovely wife. Then that annoying sound came to his ears again.<p>

"Would you please stop yelping? It's giving me a headache." Xibalba rubbed his temples trying to ease the tension. His dark haired angel turned on her side, and stared at him with her beautiful yellow orange eyes that were filled with both concern and fear. Xibalba immediately regretted his harsh words. After all, it wasn't this often that she and Marigold came to spend the night at his castle. However, he couldn't predict that an ash blizzard would occur this night.

La Muerte lowered her eyes, then looked back up at his face. She had never flinched wherever she saw him; while everyone else thought him frightening, she did not. She often said that he was the most handsome man she ever met and that he was perfect for her in all ways (though she dislike former his habit of cheating on wagers), that alone brought tears to his eyes. Xibalba loved his wife to the heavens, more than his very life; he didn't know what he would do without her.

"I'm sorry, Xibalba, it's just that those thunders are so loud… and they might frighten Marigold and-"

"There is no reason to worry, mi amor, all is fine." He said as he tried yet again to get in a comfortable position, so far he had failed.

"Maybe I should-"

"No, Muertita, she is fine, believe me. Marigold is perfectly fine." He drew her closer to him with his wing, spooning her figure against his chest. He nuzzled her neck tenderly, then traveled up into her glorious waves, enjoying her scent; it enchanted him into another world, one full of color and beauty.

La Muerte gently laid her hand on his arm, begging without words, to let her go and tend to the reason of her worries. He growled and pulled her even closer, and mumbled something into her hair.

"Hmm? What did you say?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face. "Xibalba mumbled the foreign words again from her hair.

She grew irritated and turned over so she could somewhat face him. "Xibalba, I can't hear what you're saying, speak up."

He shifted her closer, earning her body to sink beneath his skeletal yet muscular one (minus for his bony arms). "You worry too much, _mi corazón_. You need to stop, or you'll ruin your beautiful face with wrinkles." He said with a lazy tone, before diving back into her luscious hair, groaning in delight of the softness pressed against his face, it was heaven to him.

A lighting flashed, and La Muerte quickly moved into Xibalba's warm, protective embrace, burying her face into his chest, clutching at his purple bathrobe when the thunder followed soon after, letting out a small sob. She looked up at her husband's face. "She might be frightened and the lighting might break through the window, or something dreadful will happen." She had now found that fidgeting with her nightgown was more interesting than looking up into the red skull pupils that were intensely staring at her. Xibalba sighed again and propped himself up on one elbow and raised a snow white eyebrow.

"Well, as far as I know, that won't be happening. It's not her who's fussing, but my lovely _esposa_, who at the moment is worrying over nothing. Besides, if anything bad was to happen we would know."

La Muerte whimpered again at another thunder, which made Xibalba groan and flop onto his back, with his face buries in his pillow, and his fists clutching the sides of it, trying to calm his nerves. Sometimes his wife could be very frustrating. She huffed and turned away from him, as the silence came between them once again. After a couple of minutes she voiced her thoughts.

"I really think I should check on her. I just have a bad feeling, and it won't go away." Thankfully she finally had gotten to finish her sentence without him interrupting her.

"You checked on Marigold half an hour ago. If she needed tending too, she would let us know, no doubt about it. That's why they call it wailing, mi amor, it's also called whining, which is exactly what you are doing. Stop worrying, everything is alright, trust me." Her eyes widened a fraction before she playfully slapped his arm, earning a yelp in response.

She huffed again, and threw the covers off of her, but just before her feet touched the cold hard stone floor, a loud crackling boom shook the room. La Muerte squealed and jumped unto Xibalba's surprised form to find protection in his wings, her knee 'accidentally' marking score with his unprotected groin.

La Muerte brought a hand to her mouth trying to act astonished, but trying to hide her laughter. "Ay, Balby, I'm sorry! It's just I'm so scared, and I'd feel better if I had Marigold in my arms." She pleaded with her big orange eyes, and no creature in any realm could have resisted that look, no matter how hard they tried, not even the King of the Land of the Forgotten.

In a flash he answered her with a passionate kiss that surprised her. She placed her arms on his neck, bringing him closer, and he did the same. Their bodies pressed together, his tongue sought entrance through her soft lips, she obliged willingly, and did not hesitate to part them, the ash blizzard forgotten. Just as things were starting to heat up, they were rudely interrupted by the main focus of La Muerte's worries.

A wail reached their ears. They both sighed. The passion between them faded into the night. 'Oh, the joys of being a father.' Thought Xibalba, his wife had won this round… again. La Muerte gave him a triumphant grin and he just grunted.

"Ha, I was right. Again."

Xibalba rolled his eyes, and turned over. Trying to block her out with his wings. "Happy you got your way as always, _mi amor_." He said from his side, not looking at her.

"No, not quite."

He looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

La Muerte grabbed his arm. "You're coming with me. Marigold won't be a happy baby unless both her parents are present."

"Fine, then after that we go to sleep… or did you have anything else in mind?" he playfully added, but she ignored him. One thing was clear. Marigold was not happy, and neither was her _papi_. But nevertheless they were one big happy family (most of the time, at least).

La Muerte leaned down and picked up the small, wriggling bundle, bouncing her wailing daughter in her arms. "Sh-sh-sh-sh, _No llores, mi bebé_. _Aquí esta mami_." Marigold looked up at her mother with big glossy eyes. When the booming thunder echoed in the room and the halls of the castle, Marigold started crying her fear out. Xibalba approached his wife from behind and embraced her by the waist with one arm, and tried to make his daughter smile by tickling her nose with his other hand, but it was no use.

"Hard public." Xibalba sighed, kissing La Muerte's head gingerly.

La Muerte held her daughter closer to her chest, knowing that the best course of action in this case was a lullaby. Rocking her beloved child back and forth in her arms, she started to sing with her nightingale, ambrosial voice.

_Te amo y más de lo que puedas imaginar_

_Te amo y sabras como nunca nadie jamás lo hara_

_En esta canción va mi corazón_

_Amor más que amor es el nuestro y te lo vengo a dar. _

Xibalba smiled when he heard his wife singing. He adored her angelical voice, but that was not the only thing that made his soul soar. That lullaby she was singing was actually 'their' song, the one she had sung for him countless times, the first when they were in their teens, hanging out on a picnic together.

_Te miro y más y mas y mas te quiero mirar _

_Te amo y sabras puro sentimiento y no hay nada mas_

_Y sueño llegar a tu alma tocar_

_Amor mas que amor es el nuestro y te lo vengo a dar_

But Marigold was still sobbing, cuddled deeply into her mother's embrace, still frightened by the ire of the ash blizzard outside. La Muerte was trembling inwardly everytime she heard the thunder booming outside, but she had to be strong for her child. She did panic a bit when Marigold was about to cry again.

**Ruego a dios tenerte a mi lado**

**Y entonces poderte abrazar**

La Muerte was caught by surprise when she heard Xibalba's voice singing. Even Marigold stared up at her father with wide, curious eyes, as Xibalba carefully borrowed his daughter from her mother, and rocked her back and forth in his arms. Wiping her tears from the corners of her little eyes carefully with his finger, he continued with the song.

**Si no estás aquí algo falta**

**Yo por ti pelearé hasta el final**

La Muerte smiled as she grabbed unto Xibalba's arm and watched as Marigold giggled and reached out to touch his cheeks, kicking her little legs, before she noticed her mother was also there.

**Y sueño llegar a tu alma tocar**

**Amor mas que amor es el nuestro y te lo vengo a dar. **

Marigold no longer minded about the thunder, now that she saw her parents' adoring eyes upon her. She was so relaxed that her eyes started to shutter, and she let out a yawn.

_Te amo y mas_

_Te amo y sabras que nadie como yo te amara_

**En esta canción yo veo quien soy**

By then, La Muerte and Xibalba were looking into each other's eyes lovingly, the dark god pulling his wife closer with his wing, still holding their baby in his arms, just close to his chest.

**Amor mas que amor es el mío y lo siento**

_Amor mas que amor es el tuyo y presiento_

**_Amor mas que amor sera el nuestro si tu me lo das_**

They concluded the song with their lips joining together in a tender kiss, recalling the times they had sung this song together since they were young. Marigold squealed in protest at seeing her mother and father being too 'affectionate' with each other, making both Xibalba and La Muerte laugh softly. However, soon Marigold let out a yawn and finally fell asleep, her head resting on her father's chest; she even took her thumb to her mouth and was suckling on it.

"Aww, look at that, _mi amor_." Xibalba smiled, stroking Marigold's cheek gingerly. "Isn't she a cutie?"

"She is." La Muerte replied before glancing up at her husband. "She got that from you."

Rolling his eyes with a playful grin, Xibalba glided to Marigold's cradle and tucker her in carefully so not to wake her so that he and his wife may have a few intimate moments. When he was certain she was safely tucked in, Xibalba returned to bed with La Muerte, and both pulled the other closer as much as possible.

"_Te amo_, mi corazón." Xibalba smiled down at his wife as he planted a kiss on her.

"_Yo también te amo, mi cielo_." La Muerte returned the smile.

The two gods went to sleep in each other's arms.


	6. Chapter 6

The 'Joys' of Parenthood

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><p>Another rough night.<p>

Not long had passed since La Muerte and Xibalba went to bed, that Marigold started to cry yet again. It was the tenth time in a row that she did this to them, and they hadn't been able to get a decent sleep for a couple of days now. However, the two had a different to deal with their frustration and tiredness. La Muerte never let the stress spike her kind, loving and affectionate personality towards those around her, family or not. She treated her subjects with fairness and kindness, and was equally loving with her Balby and their baby. Xibalba, on the other hand, was known for turning especially irritable when he became too stressed, and often took it out on those unfortunate enough to be in his path. The only exceptions to this 'rule' were his darling wife La Muerte, and his newborn daughter.

This did not mean he liked to be awakened in the middle of the night.

"Your turn." Xibalba groaned to his wife as he hid his face into the pillow, just to be given a tug on his moustache.

"No, _señor_, Marigold wants _both_ her parents to go check up on her, so you're coming with me." La Muerte _dragged_ Xibalba out of bed, and all the way to the nursery despite his protests. She did not release his moustache until they were inside the baby's room. As Xibalba rubbed his sore cheek just beneath his moustache, La Muerte approached the bassinet and picked Marigold up in her arms.

"Sh-sh-sh, _ya, mi vida_." She cooed, bouncing Marigold in her arms and wiping her tears with her little blanket. "_Aquí está mamá_." When Marigold wouldn't stop crying, she had an idea to what she wanted. "Xibalba, I think she's hungry."

"Hungry? Well, mi amor, that's women's business, so if you don't mind…" Xibalba tried to go back to their chambers, but La Muerte frowned and closed the doors with a snap of her fingers. "Oh, come on, La Muerte! All I'm doing here is stand around without doing anything." Before he could say anything else, both gods noticed Marigold was reaching out for her father with one hand, whimpering and suckling her finger.

"See? She wants both her parents with her." La Muerte said as she sat down on the rocking chair and lowered the neckline of her nightgown to expose her left bosom; Xibalba couldn't help but shiver in delight as he approached his wife and daughter, in case they needed anything. Marigold caught the familiar scent of breast milk, and it wasn't long before her lips latched unto the nipple of her mother's bosom and she started suckling hungrily.

"She was hungry." La Muerte sighed, beaming down at her child as she fed, stroking her little head.

"Isn't she a cutie when she eats?" Xibalba chuckled, kneeling down in front of the rocking chair and holding La Muerte's hand. All the while his eyes didn't leave Marigold's little body. When he went to stroke her cheek, she grasped his finger tightly.

"And you were complaining that you had nothing to do." La Muerte teased, accommodating Marigold in her arms carefully.

"I know. Thanks for rubbing it in my face, my dear." Xibalba sighed. As he was about to stand up and move a bit away from his wife, Marigold's grip on his finger tightened and she sobbed, though she continued to suckle. He tried again, with the same results.

"Looks like you won't be going anywhere anytime soon, Balby." La Muerte giggled.

"Oh, well. I guess I can stand a few more minutes awake for her." he simply replied.

A few minute later, Marigold released her mother's nipple and started licking the remaining milk on her lips. However, soon her face crunched up as she wiggled in her mother's embrace.

Xibalba knew what was coming. "La Muerte, mind if I take care of this?"

"What do you mean, Xibalba?"

"Trust me, mi amor."

Seeing how Marigold was reaching out for her papi's arms anyway, La Muerte handed her over to Xibalba. He held Marigold against his chest so that her little head was over his shoulder. Marigold squirmed when Xibalba started patting her back firmly, just between the joints where her wings were connected to her back; he continued to do this for a while until she let out a small burp, making La Muerte and Xibalba laugh softly…

**BRLAP!**

Xibalba froze when Marigold vomited unto his back, staining his purple bathrobe with milky vomit. La Muerte took a hand to her lips, but she failed to contained the giggle that escaped them; Marigold apparently found it funny too, considering she started to laugh too while clapping her little hands.

"Very funny." Xibalba grumbled under his breath as he handed Marigold over to La Muerte so he could take off his bathrobe, exposing his torso and chest. La Muerte gasped and covered Marigold's eyes.

"Xibalba! Don't get nude in front of the baby!"

"Nude? Come on, La Muerte! I can't wear a vomited bathrobe for something as insignificant as that!"

"I don't want Marigold to see her father naked!"

"She won't even remember anything in a few years!"

Before they could argue any further, they felt an awful smell. La Muerte looked down at Marigold, and noticed her diaper was a bit bulged out. Xibalba groaned in dismay. "Oh, no. Not at this hour."

La Muerte ignored him and stood up from the rocking chair to float towards the changing table. "Aww, baby-boo needs some changing, don't you? Don't you?" she chimed as she nuzzled Marigold's tummy, making her giggle and wiggle. The Goddess gently lay her daughter onto the changing table and took off her pajamas. However, Marigold didn't the sudden feeling of cold, and started to cry.

Xibalba approached his wife from behind to see what she was doing, but as soon as she started to cry he panicked and looked around for something he could use to entertain her. La Muerte, meanwhile, tried to hold her in place gently. "Sh-sh-sh, it's okay, Marigold. _Mami_'s just going to change your diaper."

"Marigold! Look at this, _mi florecita_!" Xibalba went back to the changing table and started shaking Marigold's snake rattle above her little head; instantly, that caught her attention. "Yes, I know you like it, _mi florecita_." Xibalba chuckled as Marigold giggled and reached out for the rattle."

"Entertain her while I change her diaper, would you, Balby?" La Muerte asked, giggling at the sight.

"No problem, _mi corazón_."

Marigold was so entertained with the rattle she no longer mined about the cold air against her body, and didn't even mind her mother changing her diaper. Xibalba smiled down at his daughter when she finally managed to grasp the rattle and tried to take it from him. However, his delight disappeared when La Muerte handed him over the dirty diaper.

"Babies sure take a lot of handling…" he protested, reluctantly taking the dirty diaper with one hand and leaving the rattle to Marigold, gliding over to the garbage can to get rid of it… But then he remembered he hadn't settled a matter with Xochiquétzal. Xibalba glanced back at his wife; she was so immersed in changing Marigold's diaper that she wouldn't notice… right? With a malicious grin, Xibalba was about to snap his fingers…

"Don't even think about, Xibalba."

Xibalba yelped in surprise and he quickly dropped the diaper into the garbage can. Damn it, how did she know?! Definitely, she knew him more than even Zipacna. La Muerte finally dressed Marigold back into her pajamas and lifted her from the changing table. However, she started to sob once again.

"Oh, _por todos los cielos_!" Xibalba groaned in dismay as he smacked his forehead. "What's wrong now?!" Unfortunately, his outburst frightened Marigold and she now wailed at full volume.

"Xibalba!" La Muerte snapped at her husband before turning her attention to her baby. "Oh, don't mind _papi_. He's just grumpy because he's a sleepy-head. _No llores, mi vida_." Marigold snuggled into her mother's embrace, but she was still sobbing.

"No, no, no! I'm sorry, mi florecita, I didn't mean to yell at you." Xibalba borrowed Marigold back from her mother and bounced her in his arms. "Sh-sh-sh."

"She's tired, Xibalba. She wants to sleep as much as you." La Muerte sighed. "I'll go for her pacifier, it might help her fall asleep."

"Is it in our room?"

"Well, I asked _someone_ to bring it, but he was too busy sending pranking notes to Xochiquétzal." La Muerte rolled her eyes at her husband, before heading for the door. "I'll be right back."

Marigold reached out her arms for her mother as soon as she was out of sight, continuing with her wailing. Xibalba cooed at her and bounced her in his arms, holding her little head against his chest gingerly. Maybe a nursery rhyme or a mini lullaby would do the trick while La Muerte brought that pacifier…

"Hey, Marigold…" Xibalba whispered to his daughter softly. "Listen to this…"

**Esta niña linda**

**Se quiere dormir **

**Tiéndale su cama**

**En el toronjil**

Marigold's cries grew louder. Nope, she didn't like that one. Luckily he knew a few more nursery rhymes (it was not that he liked them that much, but unfortunately La Muerte had imprinted them into his brain after singing for nine months it a row). "No? Well, how about this one…?"

**Duérmete niña, duérmete ya**

**Que mientras tanto te canta papá**

**Los pajaritos duermen también**

**Mientras sus padres buscan de comer**

No results. Xibalba sighed. Hard public, huh? He didn't want to sing all the nursery rhymes he knew until he found one that she liked. This was of the reasons why he didn't like nursery rhymes. He recalled another one, longer than the other two, but he was growing desperate to go back to bed. This would be his last attempt. Cradling Marigold further into his embrace, Xibalba rocked her back and forth as he started to sing one more tie.

**Arrorró mi niña**

**Arrorró mi sol**

**Arrorró pedazo **

**De mi corazón**

This time, Marigold's crying started to diminish. She started to hiccup at the same tie she sobbed; Xibalba wiped her tiny tears with the tip of her blanket, and stroked her cheek tenderly.

**Esta niña linda ya quiere dormir**

**Haganle la cuna de rosa y jazmín**

**Haganle la cama en el toronkil**

**Y en la cabecera ponganle un jazmín**

**Que con su fragancia me la haga dormir.**

Marigold's puffy eyes started to shutter as she reached out to touch her father's cheek. Xibalba couldn't help but smile at this, and he responded by taking her tiny hand into his larger, skeletal one.

**Esta leche linda que le traigo aquí**

**Es para esta niña que se va a dormir**

**Esta linda niña se quiere dormir **

**Cierra los ojitos y los vuelve a abrir. **

Xibalba kept rocking Marigold back and forth, but started to bounce her. He found her adorable in times like this.

**Arrorró mi niña**

**Arrorró mi sol**

**Duérmase pedazo**

**De mi corazón**

Marigold's eyelids closed and she snuggled into her father's embrace, snoring lightly. Xibalba stroked her cheek tenderly, looking down at his baby adoringly. A giggle came from the doorway; he turned around to find La Muerte leaning against the door with a hand to her lips and an amused expression on her face. In her other hand she had the famous pacifier. "Looks like you managed to handle the situation on your own."

"More or less, _mi amor_." Xibalba replied gently.

La Muerte approached her husband and daughter, and lowered the pacifier to Marigold's lips, which she instantly suckled on before continuing with her slumber. La Muerte smiled and kissed her cheek gingerly. "_Que sueñes con los angelitos, mi bebé_."

Xibalba's lips peppered Marigold's forehead and he brushed a hair from her face. "_Que descanses_, Marigold." With this, he lay the baby down on the bassinet and tucked her in carefully. Marigold shifted under the covers.

Xibalba and La Muerte watched her sleep for a while, before the dark god spoke. "Can we go back to bed now?"


	7. Chapter 7

First Word

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><p><em>It was very late. The Land of the Living, at least that part of the world, was practically empty for the day (or rather, night). The Mayan people were going back into their huts to spend the night, as to avoid the ire of the Gods of the night and the demons that came out with them. This particular village was in the middle of a small island, which in turn was in the middle of a great lake, and yet again this lake was in the middle of a dense jungle.<em>

_In one smaller island near the main island, connecting it with the mainland through a crude bridge, lay a spirit. It was very young, one may have confused her with an eight year old girl. Her skin was made of sugar candy, and flowing, waving black hair tied with a black ribbon cascaded from her head and nearly reached the floor. Two marigold flowers were adorning both sides of her forehead, accommodated into her hair. She wore a long dress with a sleeveless white bodice and red skirt that hid her legs from view. The skirt was adorned with golden lining, and the top of the bodice had more marigolds adorning it. The child's face had little make-up, with a bit of red lipstick, but her eyes were shaded in a deep blue, contrasting her generally bright appearance. Her eyes were a bright orange-yellow, just like the marigolds adorning her head and dress. A small coronet of red candles burning brightly pulled back strands of her hair. _

_She knew coming to the Land of the Living was strictly forbidden without permission, but she couldn't help it. This place was beautiful, with starry sky, beautiful plants, but overall, the humans. She was curious about them, she'd hear the older Gods talk about them, but she'd never directly interacted with them. _

_A sound behind her startled her. The little Goddess whipped around towards the jungle, looking for its source. It was very dark, and she couldn't see anything through the trees except for a green glow…_

_Wait, green glow?_

_"__Hello?" the girl called out. "Is anyone there?"_

_Suddenly, a purple snake with two heads slithered from the jungle and approached her curiously. The child quickly stepped back in fright, her little heart throbbing in her chest. _

_"__Ponzoña, get back here!" another voice was calling out for someone, and the child's terror increased when yet another young god ran into her from the trees, stopping in his tracks when he spotted her. _

_This different spirit was a little older than her, about 10 years old. He was the complete opposite of the young goddess. His skin was black and made of tar, with green flesh underneath his ribcage and connected to his robe-like cloak. A small white crown rested upon his head, with two swirly horns with two hanging skulls and four black candles burning with green fire. His eyes glowed green with two skull-shaped red irises staring at her in a mixture of surprise, shock and shyness, bushy and gray-colored eyebrows raised in curiosity. But the astonishing thing about him was that he had wings. No spirit that she knew had them. These were black-colored, feathered wings that were close to his body. _

_The snake stopped a few steps away from her, and both heads glanced back at the boy. He was frozen in fear, staring at her like he had seen a ghost. The girl approached him warily, but stopped when he gave a step back; she noticed that his cheeks had turned a dark red. He was blushing. _

_"__Is he yours?" she inquired._

_The boy simply nodded his head slowly. "D-Don't worry, he's h-harmless." He stuttered. The snake named Ponzoña slithered up his owner's cloak and around his arm, staring at the girl curiously. The young goddess tried to think of something more to say. _

_"__What's your name?" she inquired. _

_"__X-Xibalba…" the boy replied, still trembling nervously. _

_Xibalba… she had heard about him. He was the younger son of Akrinok, the ruler of the Land of the Forgotten. The other young gods and goddesses never liked to be around him, from what she'd heard. They found him scary, and they didn't like his father. _

_"__I'm La Muerte." The girl introduced herself, hoping it would break the ice. She stared at the snake with a spark of curiosity. "He's your pet?"_

_"__Actually, he's the only friend I have…Other than my big brother" Xibalba finally managed to speak without stuttering, but there was a twinge of sadness in his voice. He noticed the delight look on La Muerte's face. "He knows a trick. Would you like to see?" when La Muerte nodded eagerly, he turned to his snake. "Ponzoña, freeze!" _

_Immediately, the snake unfurled from Xibalba's arm and fell to the ground, straightening its body completely and glowing purple for a moment before remaining still, like a stick. _

_"__See?" Xibalba smiled a little, picking up the oversized snake-turned-staff from the ground. "He won't move until I tell him to, so it's okay." _

_"__Why does he have two heads? Where did you get him?" La Muerte inquired. _

_"__He's been with me ever since I was a baby." He decided to change the subject. "What are you doing here, by the way?"_

_"__I was just looking for some humans." La Muerte replied, pointing towards the village. _

_"__Why? They're nothing but a bunch of losers."_

_"__Why do you say that?"_

_"__That's what my father says." Xibalba trembled at the mention of his father. "He says humans are all evil and should be forgotten when they perish." _

_"__Not all humans can be bad. I think there must be good humans."_

_"__Well, I have not seen any." _

_La Muerte approached Xibalba once more, entranced by his wings. The latter noticed and jerked back a wing when she tried to touch it._

_"__What are you doing?" he blushed._

_"__Are they real?" La Muerte inquired, pointing at his wings. _

_"__I guess so, I was born with them."_

_"__Can I touch them?" _

_Xibalba looked at her in surprise. "Why?"_

_"__I'm curious." She gave him a pleading look. "Please?" _

_Gulping, Xibalba extended out his wings for her to touch. La Muerte ran her fingers through the feathers curiously, making Xibalba shiver in delight, and she could swear he even blushed through his tar-like skin. _

_"__They're very ticklish." She giggled, fidgeting with the feathers. _

_"__Yeah." Xibalba retracted his wing. _

_La Muerte glanced at the village cross the bridge, and a grin spread across her features. "Hey, do you want to go to the village?" _

_Xibalba glanced towards the huts. "There? Where the humans live?" _

_"__Yeah. You said you wanted to meet some humans, didn't you?"_

_"__Yeah, but-"_

_"__What's wrong?" La Muerte teased him with a grin. "Are you afraid?"_

_"__Me?" Now it was Xibalba's turn to cross his arms. "I'm not afraid of anything!"_

_"__Then let's go!"_

_With those last words, La Muerte took Xibalba's hand and dragged him towards the village._

* * *

><p>Squeals and coos of delight filled the night air as nine month-old Marigold looked around the unfamiliar place from her mother's embrace. La Muerte and Xibalba had decided to come to the Land of the Living and show Marigold the place where they met, even though she was too young and wouldn't probably remember it; and what better way to do so than nocturne picnic? The family sat upon a golden mantle with black trimming and a few red birds on the corners. Marigold was trying to get free from her mother's embrace so she could crawl towards the basket of <em>churros<em>.

"I'm sorry, Marigold, but you're too young to eat churros." La Muerte lifted Marigold back into her lap; Marigold squealed in protest and tried to release herself from her mother's grasp.

"She had to get my sweet tooth." Xibalba sighed, taking a bit from a churro while looking at his wiggling child.

"I told you not to bring churros to begin with."

"What's a picnic without churros?"

La Muerte rolled her eyes and looked down at Marigold when she started to sob. She sure was stubborn, like her father, all for a bunch of churros. They had brought food such as _tacos_, _empanadas_, _chimichangas_, and other treats, but Marigold was just obsessed with the churros.

"Come on, _mi amor_, I don't think one churro will kill her." Xibalba stated, watching in amusement as his daughter squealed in protest.

"Xibalba, you know too much sugar is not good for kids!" La Muerte scolded him mildly, instead taking a small piece of mango. "Look, Marigold, here's some tasty fruit."

While Marigold usually rejected fruit or anything 'healthy' (in part thanks to her father ever since he would often give her sweets when her mother was not watching), she would never reject anything that her mami gave her. She made no protest as her mother fed her small pieces of mango.

"I can't believe you can give her fruit so easily while it takes **me** hours of pleading and begging." Xibalba chuckled, temporally setting aside his plate with pork and _frijol_ to watch in amusement as his wife wiped the mango juice from their daughter's lips.

"It's not that hard, you just have to show her that it's safe to eat." La Muerte replied simply, placing the now-empty plate of fruit aside and cradling Marigold in her embrace. "Aww, you're such a cutie, yes you are! Yes you are!"

Marigold giggled when her mother started tickling her belly playfully, flapping her still-small wings, holding unto La Muerte's locks of black hair. Soon, her attention was caught by something else; a butterfly of orange, white and black colors was fluttering down from the tree, attracted by the scent of the mango juice. When the butterfly landed on Marigold's cheek, she started to cry, scaring the butterfly into the air again.

"Aww, don't be afraid, _chiquita_." La Muerte giggled as she cradled her child in her arms once more and wiped her tears with her thumb. "It's only a butterfly, they're harmless." The goddess allowed the butterfly to land on her hand, and then lowered it to Marigold's face; Marigold hid her face into her mother's chest.

"One is not dangerous, _mi amor_, but a bunch can be a nuisance." Xibalba sighed, taking a sip from his wine.

Marigold took a peek to the butterfly from her mother's chest, and watched as the little critter crawled down La Muerte's finger, fluttering its wings. She made no protest as the butterfly fluttered to her cheek and started 'licking' the mango from around her lips; Marigold giggled and wiggled in her mother's arms.

"Awww, Balby, look." La Muerte smiled. "Isn't she a cutie?"

Xibalba couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "I'm glad she's got your talent with animals, my dear."

"Me? You have more pets than I do, Balby. And they adore you."

Ponzoña slithered up his master's arm and rubbed his heads against it affectionately, making Xibalba blush a bit. "Well, I do admit that I have a bit of a talent with animals too… But I'm not good with _all_ animals, like you."

Marigold giggled again when the butterfly moved unto her nose, and reached out to catch it, but it fluttered away, above her face. Xibalba smiled and temporally borrowed his daughter from La Muerte's embrace, watching as she reached out her hands for the butterfly as it flew away. "Don't worry, mi florecita, there'll be more butterflies later. Or rather, fireflies." Marigold looked up at her father, and gurgled tiny bubbles from her own saliva to try and make her father smile.

La Muerte giggled at the scene as Xibalba wiped Marigold's lips with a napkin, but smacked his hand when he was about to take a churro.

"What?"

"What did I say about churros, Xibalba?" La Muerte frowned at him.

Xibalba sighed in dismay. "Okay, mi amor. I promise you, I'm not giving her any _churros_." He looked down at his daughter apologetically. "Sorry, _mi florecita_."

Marigold wiggled in her father's arms, squealing in discomfort, until she caught sight of the same butterfly as before returning, bringing even more with it. The young goddess giggled when they fluttered around, occasionally landing on her face to lick her skin. La Muerte watched in delight as their child tried to catch the butterflies fluttering above her head; Xibalba chuckled at the scene, until one of the butterflies landed on his moustache. La Muerte giggled.

"That butterfly likes you."

"Well, I don't." Xibalba muttered, blowing at his moustache to scare the butterfly away, but this only caused more butterflies to flutter towards his moustaches. This time, not even Marigold could contain a giggle, though the dark god didn't find this funny at all. "Very funny, you two."

"At least they're not birds." La Muerte smiled as she shifted closer to her husband. "They would have pooped on you like that time we were here."

"Don't remind me." Xibalba sighed, but nevertheless he pulled his wife closer with his wing. "You're lucky you didn't smell like bird poop for an entire week."

The goddess giggled and shifted closer to him, snuggling against him. "I love you, Balby."

Xibalba smiled and embraced his wife with his wing. "I love you more, _mi amor_."

"Bawbiiii…"

!

Both Xibalba and La Muerte looked down at their daughter in surprise and bewilderment. Had they heard what they thought they heard? Marigold was squirming in her father's hold, staring up at her parents curiously, the butterflies long gone. "Bawbii…" she repeated, not really knowing what that word meant, simply parroting it because she thought it was funny.

"M-Marigold…?" Xibalba couldn't believe what he was hearing. She had actually… After days of trying to get her to say 'papa', when she would simply stare at him in confusion and curiosity, she had finally…

"Aww, _mi niñita hermosa_!" La Muerte was the first to react by taking Marigold back from Xibalba and holding her close, tickling he nose to make her laugh. "Could you say that again for mami?"

"Bawbiii…" Marigold repeated, now realizing her mamá liked when she did that. "Bawbiii…!" she giggled when her mother peppered butterfly kisses on her cheek.

"It's her first word, Xibalba! She said her first word!"

Xibalba was staring down at his baby in bewilderment and joyous happiness. Not only because he had heard her utter her very first word, but also because what it had been. Reaching out his hand to take his _pequeña's_ tiny one, he felt the same warm feeling in his chest when Marigold's little fingers grasped unto his own, the little eyes that could make his withered heart beat glued unto him.

"Bawbiii…" Marigold repeated for the fifth time, but this time it felt like she was directing it to her father. "Bawbiii…"

"_Mi florecita_…" Xibalba's lips curved into a smile as he bent down and planted a kiss on his baby's forehead; Marigold giggled and her hand now clasped his moutache playfully, tugging on it gingerly.

"She loves you, Balby." La Muerte smiled as she handed her daughter over to the tar god.

Marigold changed her attention to her mother and gave her a toothless grin. "Ma…. Ma…"

Xibalba's heart warmed even more upon noticing his wife's eyes lit up when their child attempting to call for her; unfortunately, Marigold's little eyes started to shutter and she rested her head against her father's chest, soothed by his heartbeat.

"She loves you too, mi corazón."

La Muerte and Xibalba cuddled against each other, watching adoringly as their baby dreamed the night away.


	8. Chapter 8

Rattles

For her first birthday, Xibalba gave his daughter a purple snake plush with black stripes and buttons for eyes, with a pink tongue sewn at the 'mouth', which he referred to as Rattles. It made rattling sounds when squeezed or shook. Marigold adored it since the first moment, and she spent nearly all of her birthday party nibbling unto the plush, giggling everytime it rattled.

Ever since, she always wanted Rattles close to her, and cried when she lost sight of it. This was a bit of a problem when it was bath time, or when the plush became too dirty and needed washing; Marigold cried hysterically until the plush was returned to her. Though she had been given lots of gifts in her birthday, Rattles was the center of her attention. This made Xibalba happy.

He had insomnia again. He just couldn't sleep. La Muerte had no such problem, she was snuggled against him, her waves of dark hair all across the sheets, covering part of his chest. He was holding her close with an arm, running his fingers through her dark hair. But it was Marigold he was thinking about. Lately, Xibalba couldn't stand being far from his daughter, he wanted to cuddle her all the time. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a small peek at her, just to make sure she was okay.

Carefully, Xibalba removed his arm from beneath La Muerte and stood from bed, pulling up the sheets to cover her. Donning his purple bathrobe, Xibalba then silently opened the door and slid out, closing it again behind him; he glided through the hall to the next door, the nursery. The dark god turned the knob of the door and took a peek inside. They had changed Marigold's cradle for a crib, something the she didn't like very much. She missed her cradle the first weeks, and made them know by wailing nonstop all night. Right now, however, she was sleeping peacefully.

Xibalba closed the door behind him and tip-toed to the edge of the crib to see what his little one was doing. Marigold was fast asleep, suckling unto her pacifier and gripping on Rattles tightly. He couldn't help but smile when she shifted in her sleep, letting out the most adorable coos he ever heard. She was still as adorable as the day she was born. He remembered he thought she was a little angel, wrapped in pink, safe and warm. She was such a tiny thing…

Carefully, Xibalba bent down and picked his daughter up, taking her in his arms and holding her close to his chest, cuddling her like the tiny miracle she was, planting a kiss on her forehead. However, Rattles slipped from her fingers and back on the cradle; immediately, she started to cry. Xibalba panicked.

"Nonono!" he whispered in low voice, bouncing her desperately. "You'll wake your mother up!"

He quickly picked Rattles from the crib and shook it over Marigold's head; recognizing the sound of her plush, Marigold reached out her little hands for it and gurgled in annoyance, trying to reach Rattles. Xibalba chuckled as he let his daughter take the plush.

"Dadlees…." She gurgled happily.

"Aww, you're such a cutie when you're happy, _mi florecita_." Xibalba smiled, sitting on the rocking chair at the side of the crib and watching as Marigold tried to make Rattles rattle. "Just look at you, with your little eyes… Do you have hypnotic powers or something, sweetie? Because I can't stop looking at you."

Marigold just stared at her father with wide, curious eyes. He just couldn't understand how this innocent little baby, _his_ little baby, didn't fear him. He was accustomed to being feared, he had been feared for most of his life, after all. In fact, Xibalba had been afraid his children would fear him if he and La Muerte ever had any. Yet, he was eternally grateful that this wasn't the case.

He'd never forget how she had smiled at him the first time she saw him, when he'd been freaking out that she'd cry. His heart had leapt out with joy when she reached out her tiny fingers up to his face. And to think he hadn't been fond of children.

Xibalba grew a little sad. After losing their first child, he wanted nothing more to do with children, it reminded him of the baby he lost, and the family he would never have (he'd heard Xochiquétzal's claims that after what happened, neither he or La Muerte would be able co conceive again). La Muerte, on the other hand, became especially sweet and kind with children, often treating them like they were her own, like a way to soothe the pain and fill the void the death of her baby left.

Xibalba had to admit, when he and La Muerte discovered she was pregnant for a second time he was afraid, afraid the tragedy would repeat again. But as he felt Marigold's little _pataditas_ inside the darkness of his wife's tummy, his fear started dissipating.

Marigold started fidgeting with her father's beard, gurgling and pulling it gingerly, kicking the air. Xibalba chuckled and tickled her nose, his heart warming upon hearing her giggles as she tried to catch his finger.

"Ay, Balby, you can't let Marigold sleep at least one night?"

Xibalba startled when he heard his wife's voice, and found La Muerte standing in the doorway, giggling at the sight. "Well, I was just…" he sighed. "Sorry, my dear, I just can't help it… she's so adorable!"

Marigold sobbed when her father's attention went to someone else, and she started to cry. Naturally, her father panicked and bounced her in his arms gently.

**Arroro mi niña**

**Arroro mi sol**

**Arrorro pedazo**

**De mi corazón**

Thankfully, Marigold stopped crying and looked up at her father with glossy eyes. Xibalba smiled and started stroking her lips with his finger, making her respond by nibbling on it. "Aww, mi florecita… You're so cute."

La Muerte rolled her eye with a grin and approached the rocking chair, while Xibalba kept fussing over his daughter.

"Just look at her little eyes, _mi amor_..." he cooed. "I can't stop looking at her… I think she's hypnotized me."

La Muerte giggled. "Hypnotizing powers? Don't you think that's a little exaggerate? She's just one year old."

"Why not? She's _my_ daughter, after all."

"_Our_ daughter, remember? I brought her into the world." La Muerte retorted matter-of-factly.

"Maybe, but she loves me more."

"You'd wish, Xibalba. Anyone with common sense knows that children have more affections for their mothers."

"You want to bet?" Xibalba grinned

"Bet?" La Muerte repeated. "You want to bet on your own daughter?!"

"Nonono, mi amor! I'd call it a test, if it makes you feel better."

"What do you have in mind?"

With a confident grin, Xibalba stood from the rocking chair towards the center of the nursery, and placed Marigold down.

"It's quite simple, my dear. You go to one side, I go to the other. Then we call Marigold and see who she goes to, that way we'll know who she loves more."

La Muerte grinned confidently; she was certain her daughter would choose her. "You're no."

Immediately, a 'war' started between the two as they tried to coax their daughter to go to them. Marigold just glanced back and forth between her mother and father, confused.

"Marigold, _ven con papá_!" Xibalba called out for her, holding out his arms for her.

"_Ven con mami_, pequeña!" La Muerte chirped at her baby.

Minutes passed, and Marigold remained insecure as to which of the two choose. However, a purple spot caught her attention. Rattles lay forgotten on the floor, right next to the rocking chair. La Muerte and Xibalba grew confused when their daughter crawled in another direction, only to realize she was crawling towards her snake plush. Marigold grabbed unto Rattles and gurgled happily, nibbling unto its head.

Xibalba's jaw dropped to the ground, literally.

La Muerte stared at her baby for a few seconds, bewildered, until she broke out in laughter as she stood up and picked her up. Marigold snuggled into her mother's warm embrace, holding Rattles in her little hands.

"I can't believe it!" Xibalba whined as he stood up and crossed his arms with a hurt expression. "My own daughter prefers a plush over me!"

"Don't take it so seriously, Balby, she's just a baby." La Muerte replied softly, smiling down at Marigold.

"I shouldn't have given her that silly doll in the first place." The dark god pouted, looking away.

"Daddles…" Marigold blurted out, hugging her snake.

"Come on, Xibalba. It's not that bad." La Muerte rolled her eyes.

"How can you be so calm about it?"

"It's just a plush, you shouldn't be jealous of an inanimate object."

Marigold had no idea why her parents were bickering, but she didn't like it. She started to sob, wriggling in her mother's arms and starting to cry.

"Sh-sh-sh. _Ya, ya_, it's okay, _pequeña_. Mami's here." La Muerte planted a kiss on her daughter's head, before bouncing her gently.

"Papa…" Marigold reached out her little arms for her father.

"See? She loves you."

Xibalba tried to ignore his daughter's cries, but it was breaking his heart. Damn it, just like her mother, she had him wrapped around her finger. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and teleported to his wife's side to take their daughter from her. Marigold snuggled into his embrace and hid her face into his chest, satisfied.

"Oh, well, I can't stay mad at you for long, can I?" Xibalba sighed, accommodating his baby.

"Besides, if she likes her doll so much it's because _you_ gave it to her." La Muerte smiled, placing her hands on his shoulder.

"You think so?"

"Of course, remember that everyone gave her much better gifts but she didn't even glance at them, she spent the whole party playing with that stuffed snake."

Marigold let out a yawn, and rested her head against her father's chest one more time, falling asleep shortly after. Xibalba couldn't help but smile a bit at the sight.

"We should let her sleep, Balby." La Muerte whispered into her husband's ear.

He sighed in disappointment, but his daughter needed rest. "I know." Before handing over to her mother, he kissed her little head and stroked her cheek.

La Muerte carefully lay Marigold back in the crib, tucked her in and planted a kiss on her forehead. "_Que sueñes con los angelitos_, _pequeña_."

As her parents went back to sleep, Marigold shifted in her sleep, pulling Rattles closer to her.

"Mama… Papa…"


	9. Chapter 9

Cold.

* * *

><p>Well, now this suck.<p>

Who would have thought Gods could get sick? Well, they could, as incredible as it seemed, as everyone found out soon. It all started with constant headaches and fainting spells, but then it escalated into fever and fatigue. Soon, La Muerte was confined to her bed; Gods didn't die from illness, but it was very uncomfortable and frustrating. Being stuck in bed all day on bed while hearing her subjects partying outside sure made her feel left out, but it was her health they were talking about, so she complied with no complaint.

Naturally, Xibalba was quite scandalous once he learned the love of his life was sick; as soon as he learned of her sickness, he stayed with her all day (except when Marigold needed him), keeping her company and constantly asking her if she didn't need anything. On one occasion, he gently took her hand and spoke sweetly to her. But what La Muerte disliked about being sick was that she couldn't see her daughter, in fear of spreading her illness unto her.

Little four year-old Marigold didn't understand why she wasn't allowed to go into her mother's chambers anymore, her father simply told her that she was ill and she had to rest. Marigold didn't like when her mami was sick. Before, her mother would always come to tuck her in at night and sing her a lullaby, but now it was her father who came at night; it was not she didn't like when her father came to spend the night with her, she missed her mother. Xibalba himself missed cuddling with his wife at night, but she stated it was risky, she didn't want to get him sick too.

"What's wrong with mami, papi?" she asked one night as her father tucked her in.

"Nothing's wrong with your mami, mi florecita." Xibalba replied softly, pulling up the sheets to cover Marigold's little body. "She's just feeling ill, but she'll be better in a few days, you'll see."

"When will I be able to see her? I miss her."

"I know, Marigold, I know, but…" Xibalba sighed. "Mami doesn't want you to get ill too, you are just a girl and your defenses are still developing." He lifted his daughter's chin to look into her eyes. "She misses you very much too, and she promised that she'd spend all day with you once she gets better. Does that sound good?"

Marigold thought for a moment, before nodding her head. "Okay." Her eyes were starting to shutter.

Xibalba smiled as he planted a kiss on Marigold's forehead. "_Buenas noches_, _mi pequeña_."

"_Buenas noches_, papi…"

When Marigold fell asleep, Xibalba watched her rest for a while, brushing a few hairs from her face. A few minutes later, he stood up from bed and walked out of his daughter's chambers, then walked down the colorful, illuminated hall to his wife's room.

La Muerte was reading a book when she heard her husband coming in. Her hair was sticking out in all directions, her eyes looked tired despite being in bed for most of the time. Still, in his eyes she was still as beautiful as when she was healthy and happy. When she heard Xibalba coming in, La Muerte lifted her gaze towards him. "How's Marigold doing, Balby?"

"Missing you, my dear." He sighed sadly as he sat down next to her in the bed, and placed his hand upon hers. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better..." La Muerte started coughing, making the dark god grow alarmed.

"Are you certain you don't need anything, _mi amor_?" Xibalba whispered, stroking his wife's cheek with his hand. "Some tea, perhaps?"

"I'm okay, Xibalba, I'm just tired, that's all."

La Muerte didn't protest as Xibalba lifted up the sheets to cover her, in case she wasn't receiving enough warmth. The dark god then rested next to his wife and pulled her closer into an embrace, wrapping his wings around her. La Muerte immediately tried to pull back.

"Xibalba-"

"Sh-sh-sh. I'll be fine, _mi corazón_." Xibalba whispered tenderly as he stroked her cheek. "Don't worry for me, all that matters now is that you get better."

Knowing it was futile to argue, La Muerte sighed and allowed her husband to continue fussing over her. "You know what this reminds me of? When we were kids, and you'd climb unto my room when I was too ill to get out of bed."

Xibalba chuckled. "I'd bring you some flowers to make you feel better. Usually marigolds and roses."

"On one occasion my father caught you, remember? He was very upset, I still remember the sermon he gave me about having boys in my room." La Muerte couldn't help but giggle, but she started coughing again. Xibalba's hold on her tightened.

"I insist, _mi amor_, a warm tea would do good…"

"Ay, Balby, you're always worrying over nothing."

"I just want you to be comfortable, _preciosa_. You need to rest."

La Muerte snuggled into her husband's embrace, feeling his gloved hand run down her shoulder, his wing fanning her a bit. She stirred when her body started to ache, until she heard something. Xibalba started humming, the same tune La Muerte would hum for him back in their childhood days to comfort him; it was time to return the favor. He hummed, lulling his wife to sleep, until he was certain she had fallen asleep. However, he did not move away. He planted a kiss on her forehead, and cuddled next to her. Surely, it wouldn't hurt to sleep with her this time, just to keep her warm enough.

That, and his back was starting to ache from sleeping on the couch.

* * *

><p>The next morning, La Muerte had fever. Xibalba panicked instantly, when he checked on her temperature and found she was boiling hot. He had cloths and a bowl of cool water brought to the room, so he could take care of his wife. So, he spent all morning placing wet cloths on her forehead to try and lower her temperature. La Muerte was shivering; she may be hot, but she felt horribly cold.<p>

Marigold knew something was wrong when her father didn't come to wake her up in the morning, but she didn't dare go to her mother's chambers to see what was going on. She felt like it would be against her mami's wishes, but this didn't mean she wasn't worried. Finally, when she couldn't stand it anymore, Marigold stood up from bed and walked out of her room, then down the hall. She waved her hand at the passerby servants naturally, trying not to lift any suspects, until she came to the familiar doors. It was slightly open, so she managed to get a peek inside.

Xibalba removed one of his gloves and placed a hand on La Muerte's forehead, but her temperature was only slightly better, and she kept shivering. Putting his glove back on, he took another cloth and submerged it into the bowl of cold water.

"I'm cold, Balby…" La Muerte whimpered, shifting under her covers.

"Shh, don't worry, my love. You'll be alright." Xibalba whispered, squeezing the cloth over the bowl and then placing it on his wife's forehead. "Would you like something to eat?"

"I'm a bit hungry, not that you mention it…"

"I guessed so, you have not eaten since yesterday, remember?"

"It's not my fault my stomach was all stubborn yesterday."

Xibalba chuckled as he planted a kiss on his wife's head. "I'll be right back."

Outside, Marigold quickly panicked and looked for a place to hide; she chose to do so under one of the nearby wooden tables which had decorative jars stuffed with colorful flowers. She caught a glimpse of her father's cloak as he walked out of the chambers, and glided down the hall. When she was certain her father was out of earshot, Marigold tip-toed to the door, wondering if she should go inside or not. She wanted to see her mother so badly, but she didn't want to upset her in this state.

In the end, her natural need to be close to her mami won.

Gulping, Marigold snuck into the room, trying not to make any noise, then tip-toed to the bed. She was hesitant, but eventually she whispered. "Mami?"

La Muerte was surprised to hear her daughter's little voice, and found her tip-toing cautiously towards the bed. "Marigold…?" she let out a small cough. "…Is something wrong, _chiquita_?"

Marigold shivered internally when she saw her mother in this state. Her eyes were tired, she looked paler, even though white was the natural color of her sugary skin, and her dark waves spread out across the bed just made it worse. "Are you getting better?"

La Muerte smiled kindly, her eyes softening. She lifted a hand and grasped her daughter's gently. "I feel a little better now that you're here, _mi niña_."

"When will you get better?" Marigold asks, her uncertainty disappearing, now approaching her mother's side.

"I'm not sure, sweetie."

"Soon, right?"

"I hope so…" La Muerte started coughing again, she quickly took a napkin to her mouth to prevent the virus to spread to her baby.

Marigold couldn't help it anymore, and she climbed unto the bed to cuddle next to her mother, resting on top of her hair. Curiously, Marigold had always found her mother's hair as a good place to sleep ever since she was a baby; La Muerte could recall when she was three months old, and she'd often hide in her hair. La Muerte didn't have the heart to shoo her little one away, she instead embraced Marigold with an arm.

"I miss you, mami…" Marigold sobbed, snuggling deeper into her mother's embrace.

"I missed you too, _mi vida_…" La Muerte cooed, kissing her head. "Don't cry…"

"What if you don't get better, mami?"

"No, no, no, Marigold, I will get better."

"You promise?"

La Muerte stroked Marigold's cheek softly. "I promise, _mi bebé_."

La Muerte pulled her daughter into her arms, letting her collapse against her chest as if she was a baby again. Her soothing heartbeat is enough to soothe her. Then she started to hum their little song; Marigold always cherished these moments with her mother. Soon, the little Goddess fell asleep in her mother's arms, recalling the many times she heard that song even form before she was born. La Muerte smiled and kissed her forehead, out of sudden not feeling as ill as before.

"Mi amor?"

She looked up to see Xibalba standing on the doorway, staring at her with an amused expression, holding a wooden tray with a plate of hot soup.

"How is it that she can cuddle with you but I can't?" the dark god whined playfully, approaching the bed silently.

"Don't be such a baby, Xibalba." La Muerte replied softly, carefully laying Marigold next to her in bed, watching with a small smile as she cuddled against her, entangling with her hair seeking warmth. "You'll wake her up."

Xibalba rolled his eyes with a grin as he sat down at La Muerte's side, placing the tray on top of her legs, and spoonful of the soup. He blew at it to cool it a little. "Open wide, _mi amor_." He grinned, as he leaned the spoonful in.

La Muerte giggled a bit as she took the whole spoonful into her mouth; her tongue immediately protested from the hot temperature, but it was a tasty soup. As she felt the warm liquid go down her throat and her husband take back the spoon from her mouth, she felt the cold sensation go away for a while. "It's delicious, Balby."

"Thanks, my dear. I made it especially for you."

"You did?" La Muerte inquired curiously. "I didn't know you cooked."

Xibalba blushed as he took another spoonful of soup and fed his wife. "I usually don't, but I thought to make an exception this time. Just don't tell anyone I know how to cook or I'll never hear the end of it; I can already hear Zipacna making fun of me."

La Muerte giggled at the last remark, despite the burning sensation at her lungs. They remained silent for the rest of the meal, except for a few coughs on La Muerte's part. When the bowl was empty, Xibalba placed the tray on the bedside table and lied down next to his wife.

"Is there something else you need, _mi cielo_?" he inquired softly, stroking her cheek.

"I'm fine, Balby." La Muerte sighed, before looking down at Marigold and pulled her daughter closer. "I feel better now that I have Marigold in my arms."

"I admit, things always get interesting when she's around." Xibalba chuckled as he ran a finger down Marigold's cheek, making her smile in her sleep. "Do you want me to take her to her room?"

La Muerte thought for a moment, before shaking her head. "No… Let her sleep. She'll be okay."

Marigold let out a small yawn as she snuggled deeply into her mother's embrace.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, to all my dear readers, I'd like to tell you that I'll be accepting requests from now on! It an include any character from my <strong>**headcannon and the movie! **

**Well, see you next chapter!**


	10. Chapter 10

Can I play with you?

* * *

><p>Marigold thought she was in paradise.<p>

She had never been in Aztlan before, or at least she didn't remember; La Muerte told her they had brought her here when she was a baby to meet the other Gods. She did have flashes of being in her mother's arms in an unknown place, surrounded by complete strangers fawning over her.

As she followed her parents through the stainless clean halls, Marigold took in every detail, watching as servants walked around doing their chores, polishing the floor or the ornaments acting as a decoration, dusting the royal carpets and watering the plants. She was wearing her prettier rose dress, her hair carefully combed, adorned with a small red rose clip and a red hair bow, combining with her little shoes. Her parents wanted her to look her best for today, she didn't know why, but she didn't protest either; however, they couldn't prevent Marigold from bringing Rattles with her. She never went anywhere with that plush.

They knew that it was the first time (rather, second) Marigold had been here, so it would be wise that she caused a good impression. Xibalba, in particular, had been especially panicky, considering Marigold had never really interacted that much with other gods that were not her family, much less with children gods. La Muerte reassured him that she would be fine, and she was certain their little one would make a few friends. Perhaps she might even get a childhood sweetheart.

What she did to remain so calm, he would never know.

Once they were outside in the garden, they heard children laughter and teenager complaints. Marigold knew what was going on; her parents would go with the other grown up Gods and Goddesses to talk about grown-up stuff and she would stay here with the other children and play with them.

"I'm scared, mami…" Marigold clutched at her mother's dress with one hand, Rattles with the other and tried to hide behind her.

"Don't worry, chiquita." La Muerte smiled down kindly at her as she grabbed her hand reassuringly. "It'll be okay. You're going to make lots of new friends your age."

"What if they don't like me?"

"They'd have to be crazy not to like you, _mi florecita_!" Xibalba chuckled and ruffled Marigold's hair. Deep down, however, he knew what she was feeling, when he was a child he had never been so popular with other children. "Just talk to them like you talk with your little friends back home."

La Muerte gently pushed her daughter forward to encourage her. "Go on, _mi vida_. We'll be back in a few hours."

Glancing up at her parents one more time, Marigold reluctantly went forward to look for the other children. La Muerte and Xibalba watched her go with warm hearts, recalling their younger days.

"I hope she won't have the same problem as me when I was her age." Xibalba sighed sadly.

"She's a sweet young girl, Xibalba, I'm sure she'll have no problem at it." La Muerte replied gently, leaning against her husband.

"I hope so. I wouldn't like her to go through what I went through, not having a single friend."

La Muerte smiled and brought her hand up to touch his cheek. "You had me."

Xibalba blushed and pulled his wife closer in an embrace. "Well, other than you, _mi amor_. We should go, they'll wonder why we are taking so long." He offered his arm for her. "Shall we go, milady?"

La Muerte giggled and grabbed unto his arm. "Let's go, milord."

The two deities walked away from the garden, and into the hallowed halls of Aztlan.

Marigold, meanwhile, advanced towards the source of the children's laughter, towards the clearing. She spotted about eight water nymphs-the oldest being about thirteen and the youngest five- (probably Tlaloc's numerous daughters), a boy with bat ears, wings and fangs, and many other children, were doing different things; some were playing ring-around-the-rosey, others were playing tag, and others were playing with ball, Tlaloc's daughters in particular seemed to be very fond of that game.

Marigold clutched unto Rattles tightly against her chest, then approached the other children warily, not sure how to talk to them. The ball whizzed towards her and rolled over to her feet; Marigold froze as Tlaloc's daughters finally took notice of her presence and stared at her with wide eyes. Soon the other children joined them, though some were less shocked than others. Tlaloc's eldest daughter, in particular, showed a little interest in Marigold, though she soon was back to her book.

"_H_-_Hola_…" Marigold stuttered. "M-My name is M-Marigold…"  
>"We know who you are." One of the young water nymphs interrupted her rolling her eyes. "Your parents are Lady La Muerte and Lord Xibalba."<p>

"What are you doing here?" another asked, unamused.

Marigold gulped. "CanIplaywithyou?"

"What did you say?" yet a third nymph repeated. "What language is that, dumbese?"

Being the first time she ever met them, Marigold didn't know that Tlaloc's daughters were very vain, smug and classist, they didn't like hanging out with '_la chusma'_, as they called it. They only wanted to socialize with other Gods or Goddesses who were of their same status, and they considered death gods to be inferior to them.

"C-Can I p-play with you?" Marigold repeated, slowly this time.

"You?" the same nymph started to laugh, and was soon joined by her sisters. "You think _you_ can play with _us_? Don't be a fool!"

"You're can't even hold a candle, brat!"

Marigold felt close to tears as the nymphs continued taunting her, but it got worse when out of sudden one of them came forward and snatched Rattles from her.

"What's this, shrimp?" she asked, examining the snake plush with indifference. "Aren't you a little big to be playing around with dolls?"

"Give me Rattles back!" Marigold ran to get her plush from the nymph, but she threw her over to one of her sisters.

"You want it?" the nymph grinned tauntingly, shaking Rattles above her. "Come for it!"

Marigold tried to recover her precious toy back from the nymphs, but they just kept throwing it to one another, until the tallest caught it and then shook it above Marigold's head, snickering as the younger Goddess tried to get it back. "What? Too tall for you?"

Finally, her father's temper flared within her and she charged at the older nymph, knocking her down surprisingly for her young age. Marigold started hitting the water nymph, trying to get her to let Rattles go. However, the nymph's younger sisters approached and started pulling on her hair and wings. Tears of pain stung Marigold's eyes, but she was determined to get her toy; but the older nymph managed to get her off her and crawled away from her, her blue hair all messy and marks of nails on her arms.

"You brat!" she hissed, holding out Rattles. "You'll pay for that! Look what I do with your stupid doll!"

Marigold's eyes widened in horror when the nymph ripped Rattles in half, and her eyes stung with tears even more, both from the pulling and plucking of her hair and feathers. The eldest of the nymphs finally saw what was going on, and quickly went to stop her sisters from doing any further harm to the child, but suddenly she felt a powerful aura coming from the young goddess.

The water nymphs were sent flying backwards by a wave of dark energy and rose petals.

* * *

><p>La Muerte and Xibalba nearly had a heart attack when a servant rushed into the meeting hall, yelling that the children had a fight. They found Marigold curled over Rattle's remains on top of a bed, sobbing. La Muerte immediately scooped her baby into her arms and held her close like when she was a baby.<p>

The servant waiting with her explained to them what had happened, how Tlaloc's daughters had panicked, but that they had started first, so what happened so was just an act of self-defense. Still, Lord Xibalba and Lord Tláloc were less than pleased. The Lord of the Land of the Forgotten threatened the water nymphs with the worst of tortures if they ever dared to lay a hand on his daughter again; Tláloc agreed and did nothing as his daughters cowered in fear under the dark lord's fury.

Once he returned to the room his family was in, Xibalba drew close to them. Marigold snuggled deeper into her mother's arms.

"Shhhh, it's okay, _chiquita_…" La Muerte cooed, caressing her daughter's hair gently.

Xibalba gently tugged on the broken plush. Marigold let him pull it out. He examined it, and said. "Don't worry, _mi florecita_, we can fix dear old Rattles."

Marigold sniffled. Xibalba sat down next to his wife and lifted Marigold's chin to look into her eyes; they were glossy and puffy. Forced to look at her father, she whimpered out, terrified. "Are you mad, papi?"

Xibalba kissed her forehead. "No, mi florecita." When her head began to lower, he made her look up at him again. "But you do know the way to deal with the problem was wrong, right?"

Marigold nodded.

"You should never resort to violence to solve things, Marigold." La Muerte continued, wiping her daughter's tears with her thumbs. "It doesn't mean you should run away from problems; you have to face them, but not like that, pequeña. You could have gone to ask for help from any of the servants, of you could have come to us."

"I just wanted Rattles back, mami…" Marigold sniffled, before bursting out in tears once again and snuggling deeper into her embrace. La Muerte planted a kiss on her head and hummed their song to soothe and comfort her. Xibalba took her little hand gently.

"Would you like some churros?" he inquired with a small smile. "I heard Auntie Xochiquétzal made a whole basket just for you." Xibalba smiled when Marigold glanced at him with brightened eyes. "I'll be back in a moment."

The dark god stood up from bed and out of the room, heading towards Xochiquétzal's chambers. He passed by a couple of servants, and overheard their conversation.

"She took on all of Tláloc's daughters by herself?"

"And with a single wave of energy."

"That's surprising for a child her age, and she hasn't even developed her full powers yet."

"Imagine when they've fully developed."

Xibalba chose to ignore it, his daughter being his main concern right now.

* * *

><p>A few days after returning home, Marigold wouldn't come out of her room, she was still too afraid to do so after what happened. She'd stay curled up in bed all day, hidden under her covers. La Muerte and Xibalba would try to coax her to come out, but for the moment it was no use, she didn't want to.<p>

"I know you're upset, _nenita_, but you can't stay in here forever." La Muerte soothed her child, stroking her head gently.

"I don't want them to hurt me…" Marigold sobbed.

"We're back home, sweetie, with your old friends. They'd never hurt you, I'm sure they will be happy to see you."

"What if they don't like me anymore?"

"Don't say that, they're not like Tláloc's daughters."

There was a knock on the door, and Xibalba came in, hiding something behind his back with one hand. "_Mi florecita_…" he chimed with a grin as he approached the bed. "Look what I got for you."

Marigold shifted around in bed to see what her father had brought. Her eyes widened in delight when he brought his hand forward, holding Rattles back in once piece, as if it had never been torn, though there were stitches on half of its body. "Rattles!" she took her beloved plush and hugged it tightly.

"It wasn't that bad, I just had to refill it a bit and stitch it back." Xibalba smiled as he sat down next to his wife and child.

"Thanks, papi!" Marigold wrapped her arms around her father's waist.

"But how about you dry those tears and we go for a little walk?"

Marigold looked up at her father with still glossy eyes. "But I'm scared, papi…"

"It'll be okay, mi florecita. It'll be the three of us, we could even get some chocolate flan, what do you say?"

At the mention of chocolate flan, Marigold's eyes brightened once more, this time indefinitely. "Yay!"

La Muerte giggled. "That's much better, _chiquita_. But you need to take a bath first."

"Mami!" Marigold whined as her mother picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. "I don't want to take a bath!"

"You don't want to be stinky, do you? Remember you haven't bathed in three days."

Xibalba chuckled as his wife and daughter disappeared through the door of the bathroom. Ah, the things he did for those two girls.

His two girls.


	11. Chapter 11

Little Sister

* * *

><p><em>Second felt eternal as they waited. La Muerte fidgeted with her locks of black hair while Xibalba ran his fingers down his staff, both anxious and nervous as to Itzamna's diagnosis. These morning sicknesses and fainting spells had been present for about a month now, it was getting worrying, so in the end they decided to come see Itzamna and hope it was nothing grave. Deep down, though, La Muerte had a feeling as to why she was suddenly having these sickness and spells, but she didn't want to get her hopes up only for them to be shattered like the most fragile of glass again. <em>

_How long had it been since their baby had been born dead? How many centuries? Or even millennia? They didn't even recall, though it didn't make it less painful. They had tried many times to have another child afterwards, but all their attempts were in vain; La Muerte didn't understand what had happened to her, not even Itzamna had been able to find the cause of her infertility; eventually everyone assumed she had been traumatized by the death of her baby and it affected her fertility. _

_Eventually, they simply stopped trying and resigned themselves that they would never feel the joy of having a child. _

_"__What's taking him so long, dammit?!" Xibalba finally spoke with annoyance. "The anxiety is killing me!"_

_"__Don't rush him, Xibalba. He just wants to be certain." La Muerte scolded him gently. _

_"__That old man is never certain of anything." _

_"__I heard that." _

_Xibalba yelped in surprise when Itzamna walked into the room giving him an annoyed glance, before the old god glanced at La Muerte. _

_"__What do I have? Is it grave?" she asked worriedly, sitting up on the bed. _

_"__It's nothing grave, dear La Muerte. It's not a bad thing, actually."_

_"__What do you mean it's not a bad thing? All illnesses are a bad thing!" Xibalba panicked and took Itzamna by the shoulders. "How can you say it is a good thing?!"_

_"__First of all, take your hands off me." Itzamna growled gently as he took the dark god's hands off. "And second, you didn't let me finish. It's a good thing because it's not even an illness at all." _

_La Muerte was confused. "What do you mean?" _

_Itzamna glanced at La Muerte with a warm, small smile. "You're expecting a baby." _

_Silence. _

_None of the couple said anything while they processed the information in their brains. After a while, Xibalba managed to utter one single word. "W-What?" _

_"__Your wife is pregnant, Xibalba." _

_La Muerte just remained on bed, frozen, her eyes wide and her pupils shrunk a bit. Had she heard him right? She was expecting? Slowly, her hands found their way to her abdomen and came to a stop just over her belly. Could it be…? After so much time, could it be? La Muerte swore she could feel a little embryo squirming inside her womb, growing and flourishing. She was in so much shock that she didn't hear Xibalba calling her name worriedly._

_"__Muertita…?" he thought that calling her by the nickname she would snap out of it, but it didn't work. "__**Mi amor**__, are you okay…?" He grew alarmed when he saw a few tears in the corners of her eyes. "La Muerte?!" _

_When he touched her shoulders, she snapped out of her ecstasy trance and she broke down in tears of happiness and joy as she embraced her husband tightly, burying her face into his chest. Xibalba froze in confusion for a few moments, before returning the embrace and pulling La Muerte close. _

_"__I'm pregnant…" she was sobbing happily. "I'm pregnant…" _

_Xibalba found himself smiling as he felt a warm feeling in his chest. He hadn't felt it in a long time, it was so strong he felt tears in the corners of his eyes as well. _

_"__We're going to be a mami and papi, it seems…"_

* * *

><p>Marigold just loved these times with her mother.<p>

La Muerte mutually loved to cradle her daughter in her arms like when she was a baby and sit in her rocking chair, humming a little song and running her hands through her hair. Marigold could remember those moments back from when she was a baby, actually, though she wasn't sure how. She was still hurt about the fiasco with Tlaloc's daughters, and she was a bit hesitant to interact with other godchildren, though she did fine with spirits.

A few days ago, the family went to a ball celebrating a birth; Ixchel and Itzamna had a fourteenth child, a boy. The party was held in their emerald palace, in a beautiful realm filled with forests in which medicinal plants grew, where the gods gathered to meet the baby. As always, the godchildren went elsewhere to play while the adults did grown-up stuff, but Marigold clung to her parents the whole party, utterly terrified of going near Tlaloc's daughters.

Marigold had never seen a baby before; she didn't understand why they made such a fuss over such a small thing that did nothing but eat and cry. The baby just kept staring at the stranger faces curiously, comfortably cuddled in his cot; Xibalba told her that she used to be as small and helpless too. She found the baby adorable.

For some reason, after meeting the baby, Marigold wondered how come she didn't have any siblings. Tlaloc's daughters were sisters, most of the other godchildren had siblings or were related to one another, but she didn't. She wanted her own little brother or sister to play with, small and new, who wouldn't tease her. And they'd be so new and little that they'd need even her. She could take care of someone, she could care for another person like her mami and papi cared for her.

"Mami." Marigold whispered. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it, _chiquita_?" La Muerte replied softly.

"Why don't I have any brothers of sisters?"

La Muerte stiffened; she hadn't expected that. Memories returned like waves crashing against the rocks, but luckily Marigold didn't seem to notice.

"I mean, I'd like a little brother or sister, I really would. I'd take care of them and we could play together…" she recalled when her father told her where babies came from. "_Papi_ said it happens when two people love each other very much, like you do, and that you even enjoy it, so wouldn't you mind it…?" Marigold toyed with her hair. "I'd be a good big sister, really, I'd take good care of a younger brother or sister, or twins, even triplets, I-" she was interrupted when her mother placed a finger on her lips.

"I don't doubt it, Marigold. You would be a loving, caring big sister." La Muerte spoke gently with a sad smile. "I would be more than happy to give you a little brother or sister, but…" her smile disappeared. "Marigold, your papi and I… we can't have any more children."

Marigold blinked. "How?"

"Sometimes _it_… doesn't work."

"Why?"

"Your papi and I… are sick in our own way. Our bodies won't let us conceive any more babies. But it's not something that could kill us. It's not something that can physically weaken us. It's neither something that can heal or get better either."

Marigold blinked. "Oh."

In fact, it was a luck shot that they managed to conceive Marigold, a shot she and Xibalba were eternally grateful for. But after Marigold's birth there didn't seem to be any possibilities of them having another child, but they didn't really mind; their little flower was enough, and they'd give her all the love in the world. She had to admit, though, it would have been nice it they had could have had conceived another baby, but one couldn't have everything in this life.

Her eyes swelled up with tears when she recalled her first baby, how he had died without having even taken his first breath. She unconsciously tightened her hold on her daughter to make sure she was still there. Marigold noticed her mother was close to tears now.

"What's wrong, mami?" she inquired.

"It's nothing, my sweet. Mami just gets a bit emotional at times." La Muerte replied in a half-broken, half-kind voice."

"Don't be sad, mami. I'm going to get sad too."

Despite the tension La Muerte managed to beam down at her child and planted a kiss on her forehead. Marigold rested her head against her mother's chest and was soothed by her heartbeat. La Muerte stroked Marigold's head gingerly, and continued humming their little song. These moments between them were especially cherishing for both, to rekindle their mother-daughter bond, but overall La Muerte just wanted to hold her child close.

A few minutes later, Xibalba glided into their room and saw La Muerte had fallen asleep on the rocking chair, holding Marigold close to her chest, cradling and cuddling her. With a roll of his eyes and a fond smile, Xibalba snapped his fingers to make a quilt appear as he approached the rocking chair, then covered both his wife and child with it to keep it warm; before going elsewhere to avoid awakening them, he planted a kiss on La Muerte and Marigold's forehead.

"_Que descansen, mis primores_." He whispered.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, I know this chap was rather short, but I'm also working on other chapters, so don't freak out! See you next time! <strong>


	12. Chapter 12

Hound Mushing

* * *

><p>Marigold had always wanted a pet, but her parents thought she was yet too young to have one, and so she had to get comfortable with her father's pets. It wasn't so bad, actually. Xibalba would allow his daughter to play with them, though La Muerte was still reluctant to let her near Medianoche by herself, fearing she might spook him and get hurt. This didn't mean Xibalba wouldn't take her out for a ride every now and then.<p>

She had not yet visited her father's realm, her mother would not allow it, thinking it was far too dangerous for a six year-old, so Xibalba brought over Garra and Colmillo wherever he could (to Marigold's delight and the Remembered's dismay).

In this occasion, Marigold spent the evening resting against Garra's curled up furry form, while Colmillo took a nap nearby. She was reading a book about dogs that she'd casually found in the library. Right now she was reading a chapter about sled dogs, and how they were used in a certain foreign land with snow and ice half of the year to pull sleds. It was nagging at her curiosity, like every little girl her age she wanted to imitate everything she saw. But where would she get dogs and a sled…

Marigold glanced at Garra and Colmillo and they lifted their heads off the ground in curiosity, wondering what was going through her head.

"Guys, would you like to play a little game?"

Colmillo tilted his head, as if asking '_what kind of game?_'

"First, we need to get a sled, come on."

The hounds stared at Marigold in confusion when she stood up and walked out of the room, but they nevertheless followed her. Marigold ran down the halls, her eyes scanning for anything she could use as a sled, but up to then there was nothing that could be useful. Or at least that's what she thought. When she was in the kitchen, she hid from view from the servants who prepared the next batch of food in case the tables ran out. Just then, Marigold saw a small wooden fruit box, big enough so that she could fit in. She watched as one of the cooks poured the contents of the fruit box into the table and then placed it back down.

Marigold approached the cook and tugged on her skirt. "Excuse me?"

The _calaca_ looked down in surprise to see her princess. "Princess? Is there something you need?"

"Can I have that box?" Marigold inquired, pointing at the wooden fruit box.

"That one?" the woman inquired.

"Yes, I want to play with it. Can I have it?"

The spirit smiled kindly. "I don't see why not, princess. Of course you may take it."

Marigold grinned and went forward to grab the box, not noticing that the servants were nervous with the presence of the hounds. Waving at the kind woman for the box, Marigold pushed it all the way back to her room, again followed by the hounds, who still didn't understand what she wanted to do. Once there, Marigold ran to her small table to fetch her painting kit-a gift from her father for her second birthday-, and grabbed a few jars of colors and brushes.

Garra and Colmillo watched as Marigold started her work with the fruit box; brushes flew and colored the wood, painting it pink and making shapes of hearts and flowers and stars. Once she was satisfied with her work, Marigold went to her toy chest and took out a long jumping rope for those days when she played outside in the courtyard. The hounds had a bad feeling when she gave them a mischievous look.

"Guuys…" she chimed.

They had an idea to what she was going to do.

Meanwhile, Xibalba was in the Dining Hall, taking a taste of these new macaroons he had heard so much about; he had to admit, they were really good. His wife had decided that maybe there should be more food form other countries, and the cooks were trying out some French recipes. How he loved to taste out new desserts! He felt a presence behind.

"Have you ever heard about 'knocking the door'?" he inquired.

"If I knocked from all the way there, you wouldn't hear it, _hermanito_." Zipacna snickered, before looking down at the tray of colorful macaroons. "Hey, I think I've seen those before."

"Macaroons. French." Xibalba replied, taking another one into his mouth to taste the sweetness.

Zipacna took one of the macaroons-a green colored one-and devoured it, licking his fingers in relishing when he tasted the sweetness. "Yeah, definitively I've tasted them before."

"I wouldn't be surprised, I supposed you visited lots of places on your… travels, right?" Xibalba inquired with a small hint of acidic resentment in his voice.

"Yeah, while I didn't go to the famous 'Paris' I stayed a few days in a French village, and I must say they may be snobs with a distaste for cheese but their wine is really good." Zipacna replied, oblivious to his brother's mood change.

Before Xibalba could say anything else, there was a commotion in the halls of the castle that called their attention. One of the guards came running towards them, scared out of his wits. "Majesty, your daughter-!"

Immediately, Xibalba grew alarmed. "Did something happen to her?!"

Before the guard could reply, Zipacna lifted him and started shaking him violently. "Don't you just stand there! Is my niece okay?!"

"Let him talk, Zipacna, would you?!"

"Uhh…" It took the guard a few seconds to react. "She's running down the hall with-"

He was abruptly interrupted once again as howling sounds and wood screeching against the marble floor echoed in the halls; a blur of black and color ran into the room, scaring spirits. When the two gods realized what was going on, they were both surprised and shocked.

Garra and Colmillo were pulling a wooden fruit box painted in bright colors by a rope tied around their waists, and in the box was Marigold, laughing. It was clear that even the dogs were having fun.

"Mari-!" Xibalba groaned in frustration. "Marigold!"

"Hey, isn't that like the sled dogs in Alaska?" Zipacna inquired.

"Shut up and help me with this!"

Extending their wings, they flew forward and landed a few feet in front the 'sled team'. Xibalba snapped his sharp teeth at his hounds. "Garra! Colmillo! _Quietos_!"

At the sound of their master's voice, both hounds braked sharply, sending Marigold flying through the air with a yelp of surprise to land in her uncle's arms.

"_Epa_!" Zipacna chuckled. "Where do you think you're going, _sobrina_?"

Marigold felt her father's gaze upon her, and she glanced back at him nervously as Zipacna placed her down; Xibalba stared down at his child with crossed arms and a mild frown. Garra and Colmillo whined and crawled behind Marigold to try and hide from their master's glare.

"What do you three have to say?" he inquired, though it was obvious he was only talking to Marigold.

"Come on, _hermanito_! They were just having a bit of fun! Besides, they didn't hurt anyone!" Zipacna tried to defend his niece, but felt a shiver down his spine when his brother's glare turned to him. "Okay, I get it, I get it." He walked back to the food table.

"I was just playing, papi." Marigold said innocently, but looked down when her father's expression didn't change.

"Sweetie, you realize you could have hurt someone, don't you?" Xibalba continued. "You can't just do whatever you want anytime you want, you could hurt someone. You could have asked me or your mamá for permission."

"I was just trying to mush."

The dark god raised an eyebrow curiously. "Mush?"

"It's when doggies pull a sled with a person on it."

"Yes, I think I've heard of it…" he glanced at her 'sled', then back at her with a small grin. "How about we give your little sled a few modifications?"

* * *

><p>After a whole afternoon helping newly-deceased people reunite with their loved ones, La Muerte was glad to have a bit of time to herself to spend with her own family. She was surprised when Zipacna told her Xibalba and Marigold had something to show her, but he wouldn't tell her what, only that she would like it. In the courtyard, she found her dear husband waiting for her with a smile and a bouquet of roses.<p>

"Ay, Balby, you old flatter." She smiled, accepting the bouquet.

"What?" Xibalba teleported behind her and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her clos to him and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Can't a husband show his wife how much he loves her?" he kissed his her neck and tasted her sugar skin, making her giggle.

"Hey, I'm still here, you know." Zipacna lifted an arm, rolling his eyes.

"What was this thing you wanted to show me, Balby?" La Muerte inquired.

"Oh, that." Xibalba snickered "Have you ever heard of mushing, _mi amor_?"

"It's a way of locomotion in the northern countries when there's too much snow. Why?"

"You'll see." The dark god glanced at Zipacna and gave him a nod. Zipacna grinned and called out for his niece.

"Marigold, you can come out."

To La Muerte's surprise, Garra and Colmillo walked into the courtyard, pulling something with ropes around their waists. A small sled carved from the fruit box came into view, and Marigold was on top of it, waving at her mother.

"Look, mami! I'm a musher!"

La Muerte started to giggle when she saw the crudely-made sled, but she had to admit it was pretty at first sight. Marigold looked up at her mother hopefully. "Do you like my sled, mami?"

"It's beautiful, chiquita." La Muerte smiled, stroking her daughter's cheek and then glancing at the sled. "Did you make it yourself?"

"Well… Papi helped me paint it."

Zipacna coughed to call her attention.

"And Tío Zipacna assembled it."

The caiman-head grinned proudly.

"But this sport is meant for snowy terrain, isn't it?" La Muerte inquired.

"Well, yeah, but there's not snow here."

La Muerte thought for a moment, before smiling at her daughter. "Well, we'll see what to do about that little detail later. Now let's go for dinner, okay?"

"Yay!"

Marigold poked the hounds' rear lightly with a stick, and they needed no more signals. They simply advanced forward with a bit of difficulty, pulling the sled along with them. Once she was certain her daughter was out of earshot, La Muerte whispered into her husband's ear. "Balby, I need your help with something."

"Anything for you, my dear." Xibalba smiled at her as he pulled her closer with a wing.

"I'm still here…" Zipacna groaned.

Xibalba ignored his brother and continued. "What do you need, _mi amor_?" La Muerte whispered into his ear, and he grinned. "That's a good idea."

Zipacna tapped on his brother's shoulder with a claw. "Care to fill me in, you two?"

* * *

><p>Next morning, Marigold was awakened by a knock on her door. She let out a sleepy groan of frustration as she tried to hide under her pillows and covers.<p>

"Oh, Marigold!" Xibalba chimed as he peeked is head through the door and saw his daughter still in bed. "Time to wake up!"

"Papi, it's Saturday!" Marigold pressed a pillow against her face.

"Come on, my sweetie! Why don't you come take a look at the window?" the dark god chuckled as he glided towards the bed and pulled the covers off Marigold playfully. "You're going to like it."

"Can't you wait until later?" she still tried to shield herself with her wings.

"Marigold, if you don't get out of bed right now you'll make me use the 'secret weapon'."

At the mention of the secret weapon, Marigold immediately jumped out of bed; Xibalba chuckled as he caught her in his arms before she could fall out of bed. "You should be a bit more careful, my dear."

"What's so important that you woke me up so early, papi?" Marigold rubbed her eyes.

"I figured you'd want to take a look outside."

"Why?"

"Close your eyes. It's a surprise."

She was confused, but nevertheless closed her eyes and rested her head against her father's chest as Xibalba walked out of her room, and down the hall. She wondered what kind of surprise her father wanted to show her.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now, _mi florecita_."

Marigold opened her eyes, and gasped in wonder. The whole courtyard was covered in a layer of white snow, and snowflakes were falling from the sky; the paths had turned to ice, not slippery enough to have someone trip, but enough so people could skate. "Wow."

"Since we're in December, your mami thought we should start decorating for Christmas, and you can mush more easily now." Xibalba smiled at his daughter.

La Muerte was already outside, in the table underneath a parasol for this climate. She beamed at her two loved ones as Xibalba glided closer to her, still holding Marigold in his arms. "Do you like it, chiquita?"

"I love it, mami!" Marigold hugged her mother by the waist happily. "Thank you."

"Before anything, let's do something with those clothes." La Muerte snapped her fingers, and changed Marigold's pajamas for a pink winter outfit, with wool red gloves and boots. "You don't want to get a cold, do you?"

Xibalba chuckled and, taking two of his fingers to his mouth, let out a whistle. Immediately, Garra and Colmillo trotted closer pulling Marigold's new-and-improved sled, wagging their tails at their master's child. With a satisfied grin, Xibalba glanced at his child. "Your carriage, milady."

Marigold squealed in surprise and got unto her sled; the two hounds started to run and pulled the sled along with them. La Muerte and Xibalba watched fondly as Marigold raced around the courtyard with Garra and Colmillo like she were a musher, they didn't realize someone was hidden in a nearby bush.

"Balby… I'm cold…" La Muerte whispered into her husband's ear seductively. "Would you mind helping me warm up a little?"

Xibalba grinned and pulled his wife closer with his arm, then wrapped a wing around her. "Feeling better, _mi amor_?"

"Much better, my love."

"I love you."

As they leaned in closer for a kiss, a snowball aiming for Xibalba's head few out of nowhere and struck its target; Xibalba yelped in surprise while La Muerte gasped in bewilderment. Xibalba glanced around the courtyard to see who had dared to interrupt such a moment, and he spotted a pair of feathery ears peeking from the bush.

"ZIPACNA!" he roared in anger.

The feather-made god finally revealed himself and glanced at his younger brother with a mischievous grin. "What? When was the last time we had a snowball fight, _hermanito_?"

"Just wait till I get my hands on you, feather-brain!" Xibalba made a snowball of his own and chased Zipacna around the courtyard, throwing snowballs at his brothers and dodging snowballs thrown at him. La Muerte giggled from her place underneath the umbrella, watching as her two babies played.


End file.
